Changing the Tides
by EmlovesM
Summary: It been 11 years since Titanic sank. Josephine is an orphan, abandon by her mother and she is determined to find out what happened to her parents. She hits her head while trying to escape the orphanage and gets sent back in time to the Titanic. :Changed the Title!:
1. Chapter 1

Chapter 1

Just Dreaming

It's odd where you find yourself sometimes, where dreams can take you. Most of the time I don't even realize I'm dreaming which is why I was so terrified in the first place. I'm not one to be terrified, in fact I 'm usually the terrifying one. But everything seemed so real, it was if I knew where I was and what was happening, but really I didn't.

People were panicking, shrieking in terror, scrambling like rats on a platform in the middle of a dark abyss. My calves ached from standing at an angle and the biting cold cut through my clothes. Someone took my hand and pulled me along with him as if he knew me.

I couldn't tell who it was. I beckoned for him to turn around but he kept moving, swiftly upwards which gave me a knowing feeling in my gut that something was more amiss than I realized. I wanted to let go and run the other way. I didn't like being led around, putting my fate in someone else's hands. I wanted to run and hide from the darkness that threatened to swallow each person. But just as I started to pull away, the lights flickered and went out. People screamed even louder and I covered my ears in protest. I had never felt the need to scream in my life. There are better ways of expressing discontent.

The sound of splintering wood cut through the anguished cries, I grabbed onto the white railing just in time before the tilted floor fell with a thundering crash, forcing people to their knees. The stranger grabbed me around the waist and helped me to my feet.

"Come on!" He said. His voice was urgent, but sweet. "We need to get to the back of the ship." A ship? Is that were we were, in the middle of the sea? The back railing was crowded with people, groaning and sobbing, latched onto it like leaches.

"Come on, Rose." He said placing my hand on the rail that separated matter from complete blackness. I recoiled removing his hands from mine. I looked at him, his face in complete shadow, his eyes caught the light from the stars above and sparkled green, like mine.

"My name isn't Rose." I whimpered softly, rebuking anymore of his help. The name though, the name sounded so familiar, the way he said it. Like I might have known that person. Maybe in another life.

The ship advanced upward so slowly, yet so swiftly I barely had time to tighten my grip on the rail before the floor slipped from under my feet and they were dangling above a far away darkness, bodies tumbling like rocks toward it, hitting it with subtle splashes. My strength was waning and I could feel my biceps giving out, I was going to fall.

"Give me your hand!" The stranger insisted, extending his hand for me to grab. But I couldn't take it, it wasn't meant for me. I slacked my grip on the slick metal, preparing myself for the long fall ahead of me. My heart thudded violently in anticipation of my impending death. I looked up at the stranger one last time trying to find any familiarity in his face but the only feature I could make out were his glimmering eyes.

"Don't let go." He said. He wasn't beseeching, his voice was sad, almost wistful. It crossed my mind to listen to him, but before the message could reach my hands, I let go, plunging hundreds of feet into nothing.

I finally forced myself to open my eyes. The florescent light was searing. I was wet and freezing cold, but not because I had drowned in the ocean. The Matron was standing over me an empty bucket in her hands. She was scowling ominously at me. Her beak-like nose dangerously close to my face as if she planned on pecking me to death.

"Get up!" She shrilled, grabbing me by my soggy mop of tangled hair and pulling me out of my cot. "Get up, you lazy dog."

"Wassamatter." I said groggily, massaging the back of my throbbing head. I surveyed the dormitory, the squalor of it would have sickened anyone, but I had spent my whole life here. I knew nothing else. The lumpy cots were all made, thin dirty sheets stretched tightly over them. No pillows, of course. There were never any pillows.

I groaned. I had overslept again. No doubt because of those reoccurring nightmares of a stupid effing sinking ship. I can't count how many times I'd lost sleep over those dreams and the next night lost even more sleep due to the raw back I'd received from the matron's heavy belt. Then again I can't count the times I wished those dreams were reality and I actually had drowned. Death was better than any life here, in this wretched place.

"Get dressed and get yourself downstairs to the sewing machines, quickly now!" She bellowed, hurrying me along with her cane. I pulled my ratty night gown over my head. I fumbled for my dress and pinafore that hung loosely on the metal bed post. My hands trembled. Somehow, the frigid December air that plagued the city of New York found its way through the thick stone walls of the girls' 7-12 dormitory and seemed to linger there. I didn't mind the matron being there as I got dressed. She did for intimidation but from a very young age I had been determined to not let the matron cruel attempts at humiliation ruin my life.

I hastily pulled on my peeling leather shoes and tried to scamper out the doors before she could say it. I was quick for a runty ten year old, but not that quick.

"After your work, come to my office, or Ill come in and whip you raw in front of everyone, you hear me." She snapped still standing in the same place as she had been when I had woken up. I just nodded, not even looking back at her. The skin on my back was already scarred beyond healing from years of heavy floggings. I wasn't a bad child, but according to the Matron I had too much spirit for a girl of my circumstance, too much will. I felt the contrary, a was an empty husk, a meaningless creature, doomed to forever toil in the dusty rooms of a factory until my dying day. I only wondered just how many more days I'd have to endure before I could leave this place forever. Earth, I mean.

The machine room was a long, narrow cellar like room with rows and rows of machinery each at which a small child stood hemming and sewing pieces of fabric together. It was a hot, smoky room, dimly lit by the candles hanging in the low rafters. An almost unbearably claustrophobic place to be for a minute or two, let alone eight hours a day, every day, except Sunday, when all the wards of St. Catherine's went to mass in a small chapel connected to the main building, before resuming their work for another five hours each night.

I surveyed the rows of sullen children, searching for a particular face and I found it at row three machine C9. A freckle faced boy with mouse brown hair that stuck up in the back was waiting for me, he too was surveying the crowd of children with sorrowfully dark eyes. I pushed passed more dirty faced children to reach the empty machine next to Oliver. He flashed me a lopsided smile. He was quite small for ten, at least half a foot shorter and 10 pounds thinner than I which was saying something because I wasn't exactly a heavy weight.

"I waited for you." He stammered. "A long time too. That dream make you oversleep again?" The lights flickered. Mr. Slank, the owner of the textile mill that supposedly uses these pitiful scraps of fiber, gave the signal for the children to turn the machines on. The sewing machines roared on as I tried to shout my answer back to Oliver.

"Yes, it was the dream! I've been thinking, Oliver. What if these dreams mean something? What if they're telling me something! Oliver laughed.

"Yeah, right Jo! What are they tellin ya! That you shouldn't take a bath any time soon!" He sniggered. His fingers guided a piece of white fabric through the machine simultaneously, getting dangerously close to being pierced by the plunging needle. They scathed his fingers narrowly and he jumped and started to focus on his work once more.

"I think the dream is about my parents, about what happened to them!" I said scowling. "The boy in my dream... he had my exact eyes... and the name he called me...Rose, it sounded so familiar, not the name exactly but the way he said it, like I knew the girl he was talking about, like I should know! Are you even listening?"

Oliver was staring into space, and this time the needle jabbed his nimble fingers, he let out a scream and clutched his bloody hand as if trying to cut off the pain. One of the matrons looked over but made no movement to come and help. Oliver shook his hand, wincing and stuffed it into his pocket, using his right hand to guide the fabric.

He looked at her again, the bemused smile wiped from his face. "It's just a dream, Josephine. We orphans need them to keep us from realizing how hopeless our lives our and hanging ourselves with our stockings." He smiled weakly.

"But it was all so real, like it actually happened, that night. What if that how they died. My face must have lit up with my sudden epiphany because Oliver's face lit up too. "I have an idea! Tonight, while Ms. Stritch is at dinner with the other matrons, we could sneak into her office and have a look at our files. We must have come from somewhere, been brought here by someone. I want to know, I need to know and so do you right?"

I half expected Oliver reject my idea, to tell me to let it go, but that just wasn't Oliver. A wide grin spread across his grimy face. Oliver was never one to turn down mischief. "Where do I meet you?"


	2. Chapter 2

id:5428869

A/N: sorry for the spelling errors in the last chapter. I am on a laptop and I don't have spell-check on word pad so I try to comb through it myself I know the chapter is long and seems boring but please just read it.- Emerson –Edited, all chapters will be. It's been driving me flipping crazy!

Chapter 2

The Filing Room

I walked with dread up to the matron's office after work that day. I planned to meet Oliver at the staircase landing after dinner, which was when everyone would be heading upstairs to their dormitory. It would be easier to sneak in after hours, but if we were caught, the consequences were sure to sting more than usual.

Matron Stritch was on the telephone when I stepped into her office, screaming into the receiver, her thin, bony face flushed with aggravation. She hung up the phone abruptly, and looked at me with the same blazing grey eyes I had seen since I was old enough to make eye contact.

"Well, finally, Miss Josephine Dawson listens to someone other than the voices in her head." The matron chided in a mocking voice and gave a loud, throaty giggle. Apparently yelling at someone in person or through a receiver gave her a euphoria that rivaled torturing small children. I forced a smile and sat down in the wooden chair. The chair was built far lower than the desk and the matron's chair, obviously so the matron could have the pleasure of standing on top of you as she lectured.

"But, I'm unfortunately in too splendid a mood to be smacking any smart mouthed brats around my room all evening." She sighed, taking a sip of her coffee and smacking her lips to show me how delicious she found it. "Even particularly delinquent ones like yourself. So let's just say no meals for the rest of the week, hmm?" I nodded eager to get to the landing before the dining hall let out. But my stomach growled in protest, I was already famished from missing breakfast. Starving me for a week would be the death of me.

I got up swiftly to leave, but then I thought of something. Why risk sneaking in to the matron's office and being flogged when you could try it the easy way. It was a long shot but it was worth a try.

"Ma'am, I was just wondering...My birthday is in two weeks, and I know the usual birthday treat is an extra cup of broth at meals but I was thinking, why waste precious, expensive broth on a scrawny orphan who probably won't live to see her adolescence when you could do something so much cheaper." I didn't grin, I was trying to look more practical rather than elated. I could feel her, searching my face for any signs of pleasure.

"What do you want." She said tersely. I breathed deep, focusing on one specific facial expression. If the matron saw that this would benefit me in any way I could kiss the easy way in goodbye.

"I just wanted to know if I could have a look at my file, you know maybe learn something I didn't know about myself." The matron's face was blank as she pondered my idea. "You know, to make me feel worse than I already do about being a bastard...and stuff." I could feel my face growing hot. I had failed miserably, I knew it too, just by the way the matron's stone cold face flushed after I finished, apparently implying that it would hinder my spirits meant the opposite because she leaned in closed to me and laughed in my face.

"Why, would I do that," she cackled, "what else is there to know Miss Dawson, about an orphan? All you need to know is that your name is Josephina Dawson, you're a ten-year old twit of a girl and that nobody, not even your whore of a mother, wanted you!" Her eyes sparkled with sick satisfaction. "And believe me she was rich _enough_, she dropped you on the front steps wrapped in a men's wool overcoat...with silk lined pockets too! Must've cost a bundle!" She added in quiet satisfaction. She seemed quite pleased with herself, but what Matron Stritch failed to realize was that she had just given me the most important piece of information yet. I may have been ignorant, but I was smart enough to know that Matron Stritch probably kept that coat if It was worth as much as she indicated, and I was smart enough to know that when you had a coat like that you usually had your name stitched on the inside collar to prevent it from being lost.

I thanked the matron and skipped out the office doors. I heard the clamor of footsteps above and I knew all the other children had already reached their dormitories and were getting ready for bed. I looked down the stairs and their standing at the landing, was Oliver, with two dinner rolls in his hands. My stomach purred in satisfaction and I smiled to myself. If my mother did leave me wrapped in that jacket and she wasn't a thieving whore as the matron implied than the owner of the coat must be related to her, maybe even my father. All as Oliver and I had to do was find the coat and see whose name was embroidered inside.

Just then, the office door opened and the matron walked out, not taking any notice to the two strays standing on the staircase below. She was off to make her evening rounds, leaving her office empty and unlocked. I looked at Oliver and flashed him my famous grin, he returned it with one of his own and together we skipped up the stairs and through the forbidden doors of the office.

The filing cabinets were crude, banged up metal bins stacked on top of each other. Oliver and I dived for them as soon as we entered searching frantically for our own white manila folders. Oliver found his first. He shrieked so loud I had to give him a good kick in the shins to calm him down.

"Do you want to get your ass whipped off?" I snapped in a whisper. He gave me a look of apology and opened his folder with a look on his face like a child opening his first Christmas present. He read aloud:

"Oliver J. MacAvery," he announced proudly. "Date of Birth October the 13th, 1912, New York City, New York . Mother: Clarissa Scott MacAvery Age: 23, Father: Oliver James McAvery - Jo! My father's name was Oliver too!" He beamed at me. For a moment I envied him. He had parents who were married and in love. Who loved him enough to note his exact proportions the day they first laid eyes on their little boy while my mother, whoever she may be, didn't even keep me for one whole day before she discarded me on the cold steps of a building. Suddenly, Oliver stopped and I watched as the color drained from his face.

"M-Mr. and M-Mrs. Oliver Mc-MacAvery died of Tuberculosis February of 1913. Infant son removed found and removed from house upon the demise of mother." His eyes watered, his shoulders shook. Oliver had really thought his parents were still out there, perhaps too poor to raise a son. I put my hand on his shoulder and squeezed. I loathed hugging people, especially crying ones, but this time I couldn't help but pull him close to my heart. "I'm so sorry, Oliver. I know how much you wanted-" He pulled away from me and wiped his eyes. We were alike in that way, we couldn't stand too much emotion.

"It doesn't matter!"He said firmly, color returning to his speckled cheeks, it's not like didn't suspect them dead anyway, I've been here all my life after all, what's seven more years. Come on." He said pulling open the top most drawers and handing me a thin manila folder labeled _Dawson, Josephine_. "Go on," he urged, "You've been waiting for this."

Slowly I opened the folder. I read the first sheet of paper, which started out almost the same as Oliver's. Name: Dawson, Josephine, Date of Birth: December 31st, 1912, New York City, New York. Weight upon arrival: 5 lbs 5oz. Length:16 in. I felt strange reading it. It didn't seem that this tiny baby, left on a doorstep one cold winter night could have survived and became me, a person of no consequence.

"_Child abandoned at St. Catherine's Orphanage the first of January, 1913. All Information pertaining to this child was obtained by the note left with it upon its abandonment._

The letter slipped out onto my lap it was thin and yellowing from age. I could just barely make out some initials written in sleek cursive handwriting_, RD_

"Well, Open It!" Oliver persisted. I looked at the clock perched on the wall. The Matron would be back any moment.

Gently, I unfolded the piece of paper smoothing it out on my lap, tracing the lovely handwriting with my fingers.

_To whom it may concern,_

_Her name is Josephine. Last name is Dawson. I think she is at least a month premature. Please take care of her. Love her. I will do my best to return for her once I am established._

_ Sincerely, __R.D_

"R.D. Who's R.D?"

"I'm assuming it's my mother. Or it could be my father. Maybe they were poor and that's why they couldn't keep me. Maybe they're still trying to make their fortunes." I said, but inside I knew it wasn't true. This letter was written almost 11 years ago. If she, or he, or they hadn't come for me by now, then they probably never would. And so, it would be up to me to find them. Or at least find out what exactly happened to them.

"Listen Oliver, we need to find a fancy black wool overcoat. The matron said I was wrapped in it when they found me. Knowing Ms. Stritch, she probably kept it." She turned and looked at the coat closet which was currently stuffed full of animal fur coats. "If it's as fancy as she says it is it'll probably have someone's name on the back of it, and that name-" Oliver cut me off.

"Will have something to do with you." he sighed. At least I had something to hope for. Poor Oliver would go the rest of his life without the hope of a family. He got up and walked over to the closet, diving into the mass of colorful furs. He came out a few seconds later, holding up a black men's coat. I rushed to his side, snatching the coat from his hands before he could say anything.

"It was the only black wool coat in that mess, it must be yours." Oliver said, studying my face for any signs that I had found something significant. I took the coat in my arms, trying to remember its feel or how it smelled, thickly of alcohol and cigars. But I remembered none of it. I unfurled the back collar and read the name that was indeed stitched on it, with gold thread.

_"This coat is the property of Caledon N. Hockley. _The name was unfamiliar but for some strange reason I felt like I needed to hit something when I read it aloud to Oliver. Then, I had attributed it to the fact the last name didn't match mine.

"Who's _Caledon Hockley?_" Oliver asked, apparently amused by the oddness of it. I shrugged; looking at the name again, a combination of frustration and an unusual sense of rage flooded my body.

"I don't know, Oliver." I said. "But we're going to find out. Tomorrow."

A/N: So? How was it? The next chapter is when you'll get to see Jack and Rose. Please review! I'm kind of new to writing. -E


	3. Chapter 3

A/N: This chapter's kind of boring, but next chapter is all titanic! Please just read and review if you can.-Emerson

Chapter Three

Escape from St. Catherine 's

"You're crazy, Jo. Completely mental! How on earth would we get out of this hell hole without someone catching us?" Oliver yelled over the roar of the machines the next morning. I kept my eyes on my hands, guiding the fabric through the needle.

"How are we going to find out anything about this Hockley guy if we don't? What do you suppose we do then, huh? Oh, I could just imagine the look on the matron's face if we came up to her and asked "_ Excuse me ma'am but do you know anyone named Caledon Hockley_,_ we found the name on the back of the jacket we stole from your office while we were supposed to be sleeping!, _that would go over well!" I couldn't help but be sarcastic with him, he could be so stupid sometimes, so dense.

"I'd rather that then the beating were going to get if we just made a break for it!"

"We could climb out the window while no one is looking, it could work." I said, grabbing Oliver's stitched fingers before they came in contact with the needle and guiding through the sewing machine. He made a face.

"Please, Josephine, think rationally for once, even if we did make it out the window without falling and breaking our necks, somebody on the street would see us climb out! You know how awful people are, they'd turn us in, thinking they were doing their part to _help society_." Oliver said, muttering in a way. I knew Oliver mistrusted most people. But mostly because most people didn't trust Oliver.

"I still think it would work." I grumbled. I had waited my entire life for any bit of information about my parents, about where I came from. I couldn't let Oliver's fear of being caught hold me back from what I needed, what I deserved!

"The windows and doors are locked at all times, anyway. Just wait until you're eighteen and you can legally leave the orphanage, and then go look for your stupid parents." I don't know what came over me, but something inside me snapped when I heard Oliver say those words, in the haughtiest tone I'd ever heard him use. I seized the collar of his shirt and yanked him close to my face.

"My parents are _not_ stupid and I am going to find them, _now_, with or without your help. You have a choice, Oliver MacAvery, you can come with me and be free for once in your little life or you can stay here and rot until you die of fever or whatever is goes around and kills filthy, spineless bastards like you." Oliver folded.

"I'm sorry, Jo! Please don't leave me here! I'll die without you, I know it. Please take me with you." He pleaded, his coffee colored eyes wide, and panicked. Damn those puppy dog eyes. If he didn't have them I probably would have smacked him silly.

"Fine." I let go of Oliver shirt and he staggered backwards, panting. "You can come with me, but you promise to stick to the plan and do everything I say."

"What's the plan?" He asked. What was the plan?

"The plan is...the plan is to make it up as we go along." I said confidently. He looked at me cross eyed but before he could say anything the lunch bell rang.

There was a line up before lunch where every ward of St. Catherine's Orphanage was to stand in a straight line while the head matron herself inspected you. Nobody knew exactly what she was looking for whether it is a certain facial expression or perhaps it had something to do with the griminess of the orphan. All they did know is if the matron found any reason to single you out, there would be no lunch that day, at least for you.

Nobody dared speak let alone breath as the matron walked up and down the row of children. Sometimes she'd ask you a question or poke you in the ribs. If you cried out than you were sure not to have any meals for the rest of the week.

Suddenly in the middle of her inspection, there was a loud rap at the large entryway doors. The matron let out a growl of displeasure, relinquishing her grip on a particularly petrified five year old, she marched over and flung open the heavy oak doors and got a newspaper flung in her face.

The matron raced down the front steps, shrieking for the paperboy to come back. The snow fell heavy and all that could be seen of the elusive paperboy was the outline of him and his bicycle and his fanatical cackle as he rode out of sight.

The door was wide open. And the matron just stood there on the side walk in her heated rant. She would not be able to catch anyone who slipped out the door that very moment, while she was engulfed in her screaming fit.

I tugged on Oliver's sleeve and beckoned for him to look at me, but he would not, in fear of the matron's return.

"Oliver listen to me!" I whispered urgently. "We're faster than any old lady! Now's our chance, let's make a break for it!" But Oliver shook his head hastily, and stared down at his shoes. I took a deep breath. This is something I had to do. I wasn't going to let some stupid little boy ruin it for me.

"I warned you Oliver. I'm going now and I'm never coming back even if I have to kill myself. If you're not coming with me I guess this is goodbye." I breathed, stepping out of line and walking towards the open doors. Children gasps and murmurs rippled through the line, one even shouted at me to come back, but I couldn't go back. I stopped on the first step that led to the street below, staring down at the matron. It was my first time stepping down onto the streets of New York City. There was another wave of gasps and I knew Oliver was following me.

I walked slowly down the stone steps, hammering my boots hard against the stairs causing the matron to turn around and fix me with a stifling glare. I stopped at the foot of the steps and stood there with my hands placed on my hips.

"Get your ass inside Dawson before I smack it off." She laughed wickedly, a grin spread across her face revealing a set of slanting yellow teeth. She thought that I was afraid; she thought her threats meant something to me. She was wrong, at least now she was. I felt Oliver behind me; she looked up at him and laughed. "Both of you, inside, now! And maybe I'll let you two nibble on the horse bones after supper! Go on, Now!"

"Make me." I challenged. I took a few steps forward and spat on her shoes. "Damn, those must be worth a bundle too." It was my turn to laugh. The triumphant smile slid from her face, but it was only when she lunged for me, that I started to run.

It was a joy to run, to let my legs flail behind me. I could never remember feeling this free, This alive. Oliver caught up to me and we both sped down the street, dodging cars and taxis and carriges, watching as people turned and gaped in alarm.

"ORPHANS! ESCAPING!" Bellowed the matron, apparently at a loss of words. "DON'T LET THEM GET AWAY!" A stout constable on the street corner was the only one to acknowledge her cries. He blew his whistle calling after us, begging us to stop. I laughed. I had never been happier. Feeling the cold wind whip across my face and my wild hair flow free behind me, Oliver at my side. There seemed to be nothing better, no greater euphoria than the euphoria of being on the run.

I glanced behind me. The matron now, was only a blur in the distance, she was on her knees, and in complete shock that she had let to malnourished, good for nothing children escape her. The constable was lagging behind, he too was only a red faced blur, huffing and puffing with one hand in the air still.

"We did it Oliver! We made it! We're free!" I squealed throwing my arms out into the chilly air, feeling the wind catch in my palms for the first time.

"Josephine! Watch where you're going!" Oliver panted. And I did, just in time to see myself smack into a lamp post.


	4. Chapter 4

A/N: Ok, this chapter is the start of Jo and Oliver's trip on titanic and I'm trying to make it as historically accurate as possible so please if I write anything that is totally impossible for 1912 please review and correct me.- Emerson

Chapter Four

Finally

For a moment I thought we had been caught. I was lying down, dim lighting hitting my throbbing face. I thought for sure I was back in my dormitory or in the infirmary, already bracing myself for the matron to burst in and begin threatening me. But then I notice the sunlight coming through the adjacent window, the _round_ window.

I bolted upright, looking around the room franticly. This was not my room. This room had a dresser and a vanity with a large mirror. It had beautiful paneling on the walls and carpet on the floors. And on the bed where I lay, there was a blanket, I couldn't remember touching anything softer.

I got up off the bed, too afraid to be found laying on it. Had some kind and very wealthy pedestrian taken me in? It was possible, I thought, but only for a moment when I caught my reflection in the mirror.

It was me, but it wasn't me. It had the same flaming hair, the same quizzical eyes, and the same high cheek bones as Josephine Dawson, but there was something different about this person. Her marble skin was scrubbed clear of all grime and her lace frock was crisp and stain free. She looked taken care of, maybe even loved. I was even surprised when I went to touch my face; the other girl touched her face too. Then I had to remind myself, there is no other girl that is me! I walked closer to the mirror, admiring myself. I stoked my hair which no longer lay unkempt around my shoulders, but in long, glossy ringlets that dusted my waistline which was adorn with a large white bow.

I jumped about a mile high when the door opened, squinting my eyes as if it would make me evaporate into the air, but it didn't work because the woman acknowledge my presence, but not as I expected her to.

"Ah, you're awake, darling." A tall, slender woman with bushy brunette hair swept towards me. She wore the queerest outfit, a long, hight-waisted skirt and a frilly blouse. She pulled me close to her, stroking my head. I stood stiff as a board, not knowing whether to accept her affection or start asking questions.

"And you're already dressed, how lovely." She chimed, turning me towards the mirror, so she and I could see my striking reflection. She sighed. "Oh, my. Look at you, Winifred" She breathed, kissing my brow. "Only ten years old and already looking like a beautiful young woman. My little girl is growing up." She put her fine, gloved hand on my pale cheeks.

"Excuse me, but if you don't mind me asking... who are you?" I asked, feeling the women's actions were a little too close for my comfort. The women let out a high, amused laugh, taking the silver hairbrush off the vanity; she started to brush out my curls. I batted her away and turned to her. "I'm serious." I warned, taking the brush from her hands. "Who are you and why are you brushing my hair?"

"Oh Winifred, I do not have time for these childish games." She sighed. "You're almost a young woman, the least you could do is start acting like one!"

"Who is Winifred?" I inquired, backing away from the woman, who did nothing but advance toward me, and sit me down in the velvet vanity chair. She took the set of leather, gold clasped boots from the foot of the fireplace.

"Winifred, please, enough about your name, it suites you just fine." She looked exasperated with me. "At this rate we shall never make it to lunch on time." She took one of my ankles in her hands and shoved it in one boot. She seemed disgruntled, but I could tell she was enjoying this.

"Lady, I can put my own shoes on, thank you very much!" I glared at her, trying to burn her down with my famous stare, but she was impenetrable.

"First of all, _Miss High and Mighty_, it's mother to you and secondly, you may be old enough to dress yourself but you are certainly haven't aged enough to tell your mother off, is that clear?" I was taken aback by her. She was firm, but not cruel like the matron, in fact I almost felt like I had done something wrong.

"I'm sorry, mother." I replied warily.

"It's quite alright dear, just remember to keep that temper of yours in check when were at lunch! We don't want to display such impertinence as that in front of the Countess of Rothes!" She chortled warmly, beckoning for me to come and embrace her. I put on my left boot, got up and did so. Maybe if I went along with this mad woman's hallucination she could avoid being sent back to the orphanage, and find Oliver wherever he was.

"Mother May I ask one last silly question?" I asked, gazing up at her with the most innocent eyes. She looked down at me. Her face was totally foreign. She was definitely not my real mother.

"Go on, darling." She cooed, pressing my head to her waist.

"Where are we?" I couldn't help my voice cracking in fear and loneliness without Oliver.

"My goodness, child calm yourself! For we're on the grandest ship in the world! We're on the Titanic!"

"May I ask just one more question?" I pleaded with the lady as she steered me toward the dining hall which apparently was called The Palm Court Cafe instead. This was all too strange. How did I get on a ship without knowing it, where was Oliver and why did this crazy woman think I was her daughter?

"Fine, dear, you may keep asking your silly little questions but when we get to the cafe this game must end, are we clear?" I nodded feverently and started firing questions at her, letting her pull me along like a puppy.

"What day is it? Why are we here? Where is this ship going?" And why is everyone dressed so funny?" I demanded at her, and she answered them with the utmost sincerity.

"Today is the 11th of April, 1912. We are here because we are traveling to New Haven, Connecticut in the States for a wedding. This ship will dock in New York on Wednesday the 17th and people are not dressed funny, Winifred, they are dressed like normal wealthy folk and I don't want you saying such things in a crowd is that understood?"

"But it doesn't make any sense!" I sobbed. "I was just in New York and it isn't April 1912, I wasn't even born then. It's December 1923, I'm positive!"

"Winifred, dear!" She stopped in front of the glass double doors, smiling pleasantly at the people who ambled past us. "What is the matter with you? You said you had a headache and went to lie down and then you wake up and suddenly you can't remember anything. "Are you ill, Winnie?" Nobody had ever asked me that question before.

"No, I'm perfectly fine! But my name isn't Winifred, its Josephine! And I'm sorry if this comes as a shock but April 1912 was over eleven years ago! _Please_ tell me what's going on!"

"Alright Winifred, this needs to stop, now!" She whispered to me under her breath. "You will walk into that cafe and be my sweet, charming ten year old daughter, and after I am done socializing I will take you to the ship physician and I let him have a look at you!" She yanked me in front of her and dusted off my dress. "Now stand up straight, smile and don't speak unless spoken to."

"Yes, mother." I said, and she pushed open the doors and led me through the threshold into the airy, sunlit cafe.

It was the most beautiful room I'd ever been in, other than the bedroom where I had woken. People in the finest clothes were sitting in large wicker chairs around tables, chatting and drinking tea like a scene out of a novel. Large ornate windows let in the afternoon sunshine and the view of the sparkling ocean. There were potted plants everywhere that gave the feel of too much oxygen. Classical music played in the background adding to the ambiance.

"Ruth!" I heard the woman exclaim and she dragged me over to a large table where a small, fierce looking woman with frizzy scarlet hair was sitting with a bunch of other people, she turned around and exclaimed back. "Marjorie, how lovely it is to see you!"

"Do you mind if Winnie and I join you?" Marjorie added hopefully. "If it's not too much trouble."

"No, do sit." She said, amiably, motioning towards the two empty wicker chairs. I went to sit down in the chair, when the woman grabbed my arm looking horrified.

"Winifred dear, young ladies do not seat themselves." She corrected. "Let Mr. Hockley seat you, you don't mind do you Caledon?" I froze. A man on the other side of the table winked at me. He had tousled dark hair, a strong chin below full lips and dark, cunning eyes. His voice was deep and almost alluring.

"Well, well." He said slowly, pulling out the chair beside him. "Aren't you a little Rose if I ever saw one, look, sweet pea, I do believe I've found your twin." A young woman sitting next to looked up. And I almost fainted.

She had the same glossy bright red curls as I, falling around her face in the exact same way mine did, all over the place. Her complexion was the fairest I'd ever seen, and she had a cigarette hanging out of her full red lips which were almost identical to mine. Overall, she was stunning and if anyone in the world looked enough like me to be my mother, it would be her.

"Yes, Oh my goodness, they could be sisters!" My mother laughed, the woman, Ruth, laughed with her. I have no idea where she gets the hair from," added my mother, Are you sure you aren't missing another daughter, Ruth?" The woman Ruth put her hands on the young woman's shoulders, which seemed to stiffen. She looked at me with piercing eyes but they weren't mean, just interested.

"If Rose wasn't so young I swear they might pass for mother and daughter!" Ruth added. She read my mind.

"Excuse me mother, but do I know these people?" The woman gasped.

"Oh, yes I forgot! Most of you probably haven't met my little girl, Winifred. Winifred," She said going round the table, "the man with the dark mustache is Mr. Ismay, he owns this ship." He smiled at me like I was some four year old before taking a sip from his glass. "Over there is Mr. Andrews, he built this ship in all its glory." Mr. Andrews, a grey haired man with a kind face winked at me, but it was different than Caledon's wink. It was less condescending and more easing. "Margaret Brown," She added hastily, motioning towards a hefty woman who put down her fork and shook my hand.

"Nice ta meet ya, Winnie." She greeted, "Wow, you really do look like Rose. I'm sure your quite the heartbreaker already, huh." She raised her glass to me. I giggled. Another person I already liked.

"And of course, this is my good friend, Ruth Dewitt Bukator, her daughter, Rose and her daughters fiancé, Mr. Hockley." turned to me and smirked. So this was the owner of the coat? He didn't look too bad but there was an air about him that I didn't care for. I tried to stare him down but like this woman he too could not be broken by it.

"So are you by chance a little spitfire, also?" He asked, testing the bounce one of my stray curls, playfully.

"Cal, please your scaring the poor thing." Rose added, coldly. Blowing a ring of smoke out with her perfect lips. Smoke wafted over my way and I coughed a bit. My mother patted my back and gave Ruth a meaningful look.

"You know I don't like that, Rose." She said coolly to her daughter. Rose just looked at her. She put the cigarette to her lips before exhaling her smoky breath in her mother's face. I adored her already. Now I knew she was my real mother. Not only did she have the same looks but the same defiant, independence..

"She knows." Said Cal, snatching the cigarette from Rose's lips. Rose looked affronted but she said nothing. Margaret Brown gave Cal a withering stare from across the table.

"We'll both have the lamb. Rare with very little mint sauce." He told the waiter who had materialized by his side. "You like lamb, right, Sweet Pea." He asked Rose, as if it was a rhetorical question. Rose smiled at her fiancé and nodded slightly.

"You gonna cut her meat for her too there, Cal?" Molly asked in amusement. Cal stared just stared at her, in obvious discomfort.

This was going nowhere. I knew Oliver had to be here too. He was with me when I blacked out after all. He had to be here somewhere; all I had to do was slip away from this woman for awhile, enough time to search for him.

"Mother, I really...I really don't feel well." I groaned, trying my best to look seriously ill. I put my hands on my stomach and gave a soft moan.

"All right, dear. I suppose we could go back to the state room if you're feeling that poorly." She looked reluctant to leave.

"No, no, mother. You stay here and mingle; I can find my way back to our room myself." I reassured her, getting up out of my seat. Cal motioned to pull it out for me but I beat him to it, sneering at him, just a little. Rose saw me and sniggered.

"Alright, Winnie, If you insist. I'll see you in a little while. Feel better, Darling!" She called after me as I scampered a little too eagerly out of the Palm Court. Once I made it into the corridor I sighed. Finally, I was alone, a whole ship to explore. I just hoped that somewhere on this gigantic vessel, Oliver was looking for me too.

A/N: Ok, that was a little dull but please review, give me some tips? Next chapter has a lot of Jack in it! I'm really excited to write it because I love Jack because he's an artist like me! Please be kind. - Emerson


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5

An Artist's Hands

I found my way out to the promenade deck after lunch. It was cold, but the sun was shining and it felt good. I couldn't remember the last time I'd really felt the sun on my face. I looked around searching for the one face that I so desperately needed to see, to feel safe again. Maybe Oliver knew what was going on. Maybe he knew how we had come to be on this ship so far back in time. I was still convinced that this was one of my strangely vivid dreams and I was due to wake up any moment.

I was incredibly bored. There were no children out on the promenade, only a little two year old girl named Lorraine and her baby brother, Trevor whom I happily entertained for a few minutes, to their nanny's delight. I was still keeping an eye out for Oliver, but no other children came out that afternoon. I started to get anxious, pacing the deck, wondering how much time I had before the mad woman who called herself my mother found me. Then I heard it, from far below, the sound of children playing.

I looked over the side of the promenade, down at the very back of the boat. It was a crowded place but I could see clearly, a bunch of children racing around the deck. If Oliver was anywhere in this ship, it would be there.

I made my way down to the stern. I received puzzled looks from the officers below when I asked them to open the gate for me.

"Are you lost little miss?" He asked incredulously, scanning the length of my body from my shiny leather shoes to my perfectly placed curls. "People like you usually don't mingle with this lot." People like me?

"All the other children are on this part of the ship." I stated. "It's too boring up there." I looked up at the promenade deck. "I want to play." He raised his eyebrows at me and unlocked the gate.

I was met by a swarm of people. A dozen different languages met my ears and at first I didn't know where to turn. I started towards a group of little boys playing jacks when someone jumped in front of me. A large boy with a slanting smile blocked my way.

"Wot ya doin down in the slums, miss fancy pants!" He said, backing me up to the railing. "Come to look down on us poor folk! He sneered, spitting at my feet. "Not so proud now, are ya!" He cackled. He sorely underestimated me. I pushed him to the ground, he landed on his back, moaning.

"You want to talk slums!" I yelled. "Try going a week without food then you can talk, you jackass!" I stomped hard between his legs, for good measure and spat too only not at his feet but in his face. I had a horrible temper, I knew it. But sometimes it was a pleasure to use it. Then there was another voice behind me, but this one I recognized.

"Couldn't resist it, could you, Jo?"

There, the only person I wanted to see. Oliver stood before me, grinning like an idiot. He too, looked the same yet different. His usually translucent face glowed with happiness and his hair, usually greasy was combed back neatly, an old fashioned hat placed jauntily on it. He wore knee length britches with stocking and suspenders strapped across his shirt. I burst out laughing.

"What are you wearing?" I gasped between giggles. He tackled me, knocking me to the ground. He sat on my midsection, staring into my face, he too laughed.

"I could say the same for you, ya filthy hypocrite!" he guffawed, straddling my waist. I struggled to push him off me and couldn't succeed. He had gained weight.

"Oliver, do you know how we got here?" I asked, trying to slip through the opening between his legs but he clamped tight around me and started to tickle my stomach and under my arms.

"No idea." He said flatly. "It's weird though. I woke up in this cabin with a whole bunch of people in it! I thought I'd been kidnapped or something! I asked the lady there who she was and where the hell I was and she spanked me for cussing!" he mused. "Then she slapped me again for not calling her mum!"

"Yes! The same thing happened to me, as well! But there we're no other people unfortunately. And no spankings. Just a completely mad woman and a group of very snobbish grownups." I wrinkled my nose.

"Yeah, but guess what! I've got brothers, look!" He pointed to a group of four blonde boys playing idly together. "I'm supposed to be looking after them," He said scratching his head. "I keep tellin em my name is Oliver but they just keep callin me Albert."

"I know what you mean," I said wearily. "People just won't stop referring to me as Winifred. I'm mean, what kind of person calls there kid Winifred?" Oliver laughed.

"Now we both have funny names!"

"I kneed him between the legs. He gasped clutching his privates, sliding off me. It was my turn to laugh.

"That's what you get for messing with Winifred Cunningham!" I proclaimed, getting up from the ship deck and looking around. There were children, everywhere, only they weren't somber and malnourished. They were happy and smiling, braving the cold to play in the sunshine. The adults sat on the benches or leaned on the deck rails talking. Smoking, watching their children plays. Oliver got up, wincing.

"Okay, you win." He sighed. One of the little boys Oliver had called his brothers waved at him; he waved back, a genuinely kind smile across his face. "There alright, those little guys. I kinda like em." Oliver had a strange look on his face. He liked having a family, people who needed him. I could tell.

"Oh, Oliver I forgot to tell you! I found Caledon Hockley and I think I found my mother, my real mother! It's a girl named Rose and she looks exactly like me!" I beamed at him, putting my hands on his shoulders. He looked baffled.

"How do you know it's really your mother, Jo? I mean, seriously, there must be loads of people with red hair and greenish eyes."

"You didn't meet her." I said firmly. "She acted like me too. At least a little bit. You have to see her."

"Whatever you say," he shrugged, glancing back at his little brothers. "Is that Hockley guy your father then?"

"I really can't say. I mean, he's Rose's fiancé and everything and his name was on the jacket but... I don't know there was nothing familiar about him."

"What do you mean, you never met him before."

"I mean it didn't feel right. With Rose I knew we were related somehow, I could just tell!" But with Cal, well, he was just awful." I made a disgusted face. "I could tell Rose doesn't really love him, or didn't love him."

"You mean doesn't love him."

No didn't. This may sound strange but I think we've gone back in time to 1912! Before I was born! I don't know how or why. I was hoping you would." He shook his head.

"I kinda figured somethin funny had happened." He said nonchalantly. "Last thing I remember before coming here was dragging you outta the street then I got really dizzy and blacked out too."

"I hate this, I really do. Even if I get to meet my parents, I still wish I was myself."

"It still nice here." He said vacantly. Suddenly he looked alert. "Hey, you gotta meet this guy!" He said pulling me over to him and pointing to a man sitting on a bench across the deck, a pad of paper on his lap, scribbling furiously. "His name is Jack. He's really a great guy. He's an amazing drawer, though. He can draw anything you ask him to and it looks so real. Come, I want you to meet him."

Oliver took my hand and dragged me over to meet Jack. I was reluctant at first, I don't know why. Maybe it was because he was concentrating so intently on his drawing. But when Oliver said his name, he looked up and grinned.

"Jack, I want you to meet my friend, Josephine. But I call her Jo." He added sort of shyly. My face grew hot and I had no idea why. It was his eyes, I bet, I recognized them but I couldn't quite say where from.

"Nice to meet you, Jo." he said warmly, shaking my hand. His voice was very boyish and calming, I felt like I'd known him for years.

"Nice to meet you too." I breathed, in awe of what I was seeing on his sketch pad. It was the image of a little girl and her father looking over the edge of the ship together. I could have just reached out and touched the paper and felt like I was touching the real people. He must have seen the look on my face because he motioned for me to sit beside him.

"Wanna try your hand?" he asked, handing me the charcoal pencil. He handed me the sketch pad and pointed to the image he had been sketching, a little girl standing on the rail in her father's arm while showed her how the ship propellers worked. "Think you can manage?" He asked. I nodded, confidently. I had drawn all the time when I lived in the orphanage, usually on napkins or scraps of paper when I was bored. The other wards often asked me how I doodled like that, so well. I told them to draw what they saw, but they never did get it.

I placed the charcoal on the paper, staring at the subjects for a while, really seeing them, before I started to draw and just as it had done for Jack, the image just seemed to flow out of the pencil like magic.

"Wow, not bad." he mused. Looking from the drawing back to the subjects for a while. "Hey, no wonder", he said, taking my hand and placing it next to his. "You've got an artist's hands, see." He said comparing my small pale hands to his large ones, but he was right, we did have similar hands. He looked up at me, and our eyes met. "You've even got an artist's eyes, both green. He laughed and I responded with one of my own.

"Eh, you two look like you could be related with those eyes." A short, olive skinned man sitting on the back of the bench observed, he had a thick Italian accent and, in my opinion, the most dazzling smile.

"Jo this is my friend, Fabritzio. Me and him, we're going to America together. Fabri, look at how good this is." He showed the Italian the part of the drawing I had sketched and he raised his thick dark eyebrows in surprise.

"In a few years you'll be given Jack a run for his money, no?" He said, winking at me, and this time I winked back. He slapped his knee. I looked around for Oliver, but he had gravitated toward his new little brothers and had started to play with them, animatedly.

An Irishmen leaning against the rail next to them, a cigarette hanging from his mouth piped in. His curly light hair falling in his face. That's a nice drawing ya have there." He said, taking the smoke from his mouth. "I'm Tommy Ryan."

"Jack Dawson."

"Fabriztio."

"Your last name is Dawson!" I said, cutting off Fabritzio's introduction. "My...my last name is Dawson, too!" I gaped, unfathomably, staring at him, mesmerized. Could it be? Was it possible, by any chance that this man, this wonderful man, could be my father?

"Hm. That's neat. No wonder you're such a good artist," he said, handing me back the drawing for me to finish. Just then Jack looked up at the first class promenade. Tommy, Fabritzio and I followed his gaze up to a young woman in a yellow dress and bright red hair swirled up off her neck, leaning on the railing, staring out to sea.

"Ah, forget it, boyo." Tommy Ryan said. " You'd as like 'ave angels fly out of yer arse as gettin next to the likes of her."

"Do you know her, Jack?" I asked, hopefully, but Jack shook his head. I saw Rose look sideways at Jack from up above, then, in spite of herself, look at him again.

"You look like you could know her, though." Said Tommy, I detected a little bitterness in his voice as he surveyed me from my lacey dress to my scarlet hair. I frowned at him.

"WINIFRED!" I heard from above. The woman was leaning over the promenade deck at me, looking distressed. I jumped up from my seat, how had she found me so fast?

"I-I have t-to go now." I stammered, handing Jack his sketchbook. Nodding a goodbye to Tommy and Fabritzio.

"See ya later, Jo." Jack smiled. "Keep practicing, okay."

"I will, I promise." I assured Jack who in turn ruffled my hair. Oliver looked up and saw me leaving. I mouthed the word "_tomorrow_" to him he gave a subtle nod and continued playing with the little boys. I groaned as I hurried up the stairs to a disgruntled mother. The only thing I wanted to think about, the only thing I could think about is how on earth I could get Jack Dawson and Rose Dewitt Bukator to fall in love.


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6

You Jump, I Jump

"I'm so very disappointed in you, Winifred. Don't you know how utterly embarrassing that was! The mad woman scolded. I was back in my so called state room, which the woman had practically carried me to after she saw me on the third class promenade deck. She immediately sat me down in an arm chair in the sitting room and proceeded to lecture me on proper behavior for a young lady.

"Jeez Lady! What did I do?" I was so confused.

"Mother, its _mother_, missy and how many times have I told you, we do not associate ourselves with those kinds of people!" She disparaged angrily.

"Whatkinds of people?" I asked, gritting my teeth. If she was talking about Oliver...

"People of a lower class, people of less than reputable morals! You were not bred to converse with criminals!"

"But there not criminals! There just people, like us!" I claimed. "In fact they're much better than us because they know how to have fun!" I pouted.

"Never the less, they are not suitable companions for a young woman of such good breeding. You know better, Winifred! Now you are to stay here, in the stateroom for the rest of the day as punishment."

"Fine." I said, not really caring.

"And you are never to go down there and talk to those people again, I'm I clear?" I looked at her.

"All right, mother." I tried to sound earnest, looking at her with deep eyes. She melted.

"Thank you, dear. She smiled, bringing me to my feet. "Now please, retire to your bedroom."

I did so, closing the door behind me. I leaned against it, sliding down to kneel on the soft carpet, smiling covertly to _believed_ me. She actually believed I would obey her. But the thing is, I _obeyed_ no one. And she would just have to learn that the hard way.

There was no leaving my room all that day. She was always sitting out there, in the parlour. I sat on the bed, with paper and a pencil and I practiced, like Jack had told me too. I drew him and Rose, together and In my opinion, there was no finer image. It was only when she left for dinner in the dining saloon that I managed to slip out.

I took the lifts down to E deck and proceeded down the stairs from there. The third class births were a labyrinth of identical white corridors, I had to shout Oliver's name down the narrow halls to find him. Finally, at G deck, I did find him, he emerged from one of the births looking alarmed.

"Jesus, Jo!" He said shutting the door of his cabin, the squeals of little boys could be heard from inside. "I thought we agreed we'd meet _tomorrow_." He looked disgruntled.

"I know that's what I said, but I need you _now!" _I pleaded, gripping his hand. "Come on, we'll go out to the stern, everyone's asleep or in the dining hall it'll be deserted." He hesitated.

"It's late. Mum'll kill me if I leave without telling her." He turned and went inside, coming back out, he looked more relieved. "I've got an hour. We better move fast."

The night was cold and clear, and the air smelled sweet of salt water and tobacco. Oliver raced out the doors leading to the open air, leaning out onto the railing taking deep gulps of sea air.

" Have you ever smelled anything more wonderful?" he asked. I shook my head. He took a silver lighter from his pocket and pulled a cigarette from behind his ear and tried to light it but I snatched it away before he could bring it to is lips. He looked at me crossly as I tossed it over the side of the ship.

" Jeez, Oliver, that'll kill you!" I said reproachfully.

"It was a gift from someone, I had to use it!" Defended Oliver.

"Who in their right mind would give you a cigarette?" I said incredulously. He scowled, I had robbed him of his grown up moment.

"So what's so urgent that you had to meet me tonight?" He grunted, looking over the rail at the churning dark water, lamenting over his lost cigar.

"I think that boy Jack is my father." I said bluntly. Oliver burst out in amusement.

"Yeah, sure Jo! And you think that rich snot you call your real mother would even as much as look at Jack! Be serious, first class and steerage they just don't mix. Never will."

"Than what do you call us?" I asked him, he saw that I was hurt but he didn't do anything to make up for it.

"We're different Jo. You're not really a first class girl, just like I'm not really a little English boy on his way to America. We're just part of a crazy game, a dream maybe. Jack and Rose, well...it just won't happed...it can't happen." He stated, with a cock of his head.

"But this is real, Oliver! You, me, these people, this ship!" This all really happened and no matter what, we were put here for a reason!" I said, fiercely. " And I think that reason is to make sure Jack Dawson and Rose Dewitt Bukator fall for each other!"

" Tch, fine, whatever you say." He had given up in convincing me it wasn't so. But before I could state the facts, something came streaking past our vision, stopping at the very back of the ship. It took me awhile to realize that it was a young woman, with scarlet hair.

Her chest rose and fell rapidly, and she was sobbing, I could tell from the way she breathed. She walked slowly up to the back rail, placed her trembling hands upon it, and began to climb over the rail.

"No!" Oliver lurched towards her but I held him back, putting my long arm around his neck, and pulling him down to his knees. He looked at me frantically. "What are you doing, Josephine, she's gonna Jump! We gotta stop her!" He said vigorously. I crouched down behind the bench as well, placing my hand over his still moving mouth.

"Look, Oliver!" I squealed silently, pointing to the tall, dark figure edging up carefully behind Rose. Jack was here, and I knew he would never let Rose fall. This was fate, I could feel it inside me. Rose wasn't meant to commit suicide, and Jack was meant to save her, not Oliver and I.

"Don't do it." Jack said calmly, inching closer to Rose who was now over the rail. She looked around at Jack, eyes digging into him like nails.

"Stay back!" She warned shakily. "Don't come any closer!"

"Come on, just gimme your hand. I'll pull you back over." Urged Jack, advancing towards her, hand extended.

"Stay where you are! I mean it! I'll let go!" Rose reprimanded, keeping her eyes on Jack, slackening her grip on the rail a bit so it looked like she was about to let go.

Jack looked at her, taking one last breath of cigarette before tossing it over the rail. He put his hand down.

"No you won't." he said almost as matter-of-factly.

"What do you mean, no I won't!" Rose looked slightly infuriated and entirely vexed by Jack's statement. "Don't presume to tell what I will and will not do, you don't know me!"

"Well, you woulda dunnit already."

"You're distracting me! Go away!" Rose demanded, turning back towards the open ocean.

"I can't." Jack said. I'm involved now. You let go and I'm gonna have to jump in there after ya." He started to remove his coat. Oliver squirmed in my grip but I was determined to let this play out the way fate intended.

"Don't be absurd." Rose breathed. "You'll be killed."

"I'm a good swimmer." Jack retorted, putting his foot up on the anchor as to untie his shoes.

" The fall alone will kill you." Rose said primly, trying desperately to get him to leave her be.

" It would hurt," Jack replied, " I'm not saying it wouldn't. Tell ya the truth; I'm more concerned about that water being so cold." Jack was determined also, he was determined to convince Rose not to jump.

"How Cold?" Rose implored, gravely.

" Freezing, maybe a couple of degrees over." Jack paused. ya ever...ya ever been to Wisconsin?"

"What?" Said Rose, to shaken to concentrate on what was being said.

"They have some of the coldest winters around. I grew up there, near Chippewa Falls. And I remember when I was a kid, me and my father, we ice fishing out on Lake Wissota. Ice fishing is you know where y-"

"I know what Ice fishing is!"

"Sorry." Said Jack, backing off a little. " you just seemed like kind of an indoor girl. Well any way, I fell through some thin ice and let me tell you, water that cold, like right down there, it hits you like a thousand knives stabbing you all over your body. You can't breathe, you can't think, at least not about anything but the pain." Jack's words made me shiver and I brought Oliver closer to me, he too was trembling.

"Which is why I'm not looking forward to jumping in there after you." He said slowly, taking off his other jacket. "But like I said, I don't have a choice. I guess I'm kinda hoping you'll come back over the rail and get me off the hook here." This time I pleaded too.

"You're crazy!" She told Jack, once again focusing on the dark water below.

"That's what everyone says, but with all due respect miss...I'm not the one hanging off the back of a ship here. Come on, come on gimme your hand. You don't wanna do this." he said earnestly, looking directly into Rose's frightened eyes. Right then, I knew there was a connection between them, I felt it in the pit of my stomach, something great was about to happen.

"I'm Jack Dawson" He said, taking Rose's hand.

"Rose Dewitt Bukator." She breathed.

"I'm gonna have to get you to write that one down." This time they both laughed a bit. Rose was just about to climb over the rail, into Jack's arms, when she slipped.

Oliver and I raced up the stairs. We had watched the whole thing. Jack's confrontation his almost rescue, Rose's near death experience, then another rescue by Jack. But then the officer's came and saw Jack's coat and boots on the floor and misunderstood the whole thing. We had stayed quiet for one reason, we did not want to be seen by the officers and arrested too.

As we got up there, the master at arms was handcuffing Jack as Cal confronted Jack, outraged.

"What made you think you could put your hands on _my_ fiancé! Look at me, you filth!" He seized Jack's collar trying to force him to make eye contact. Rose was sitting on a bench wrapped in a blanket, looking down at her ghostly white hands.

"Wait, Wait!" I cried, finally reaching the place where they stood. "Jack didn't do anything, it was accident!" Cal turned around. He recognized me but instead of challenging me he smiled and ruffled my hair. I pushed his arm away and turned to the officer. " It was, we saw the whole thing! Jack was trying to save her b-" Before I could finish Rose got up and yanked me aside.

"Cal, it was an accident, stupid really." She beseeched. "I was leaning far over to see the... the..."

"Propellers?"

"Right, I was leaning far over to see the propellers and I slipped...and I would have gone overboard but Mr. Dawson, here saved me and almost went over himself!" Oliver and I nodded feverently in the background.

"Was that the way of it?" The master at arms asked Jack in his low, ominous voice. Jack hesitated a moment.

"Yeah, yeah that was pretty much it." The hand that had been squeezing my heart had let go, and I could breathe again. Cal just looked at Jack before taking his fiancé possessively around the shoulders.

"Come on, let's get you inside." He said, rubbing her shoulders, they started to walk away.

"What about Jack!" I said indignantly. "he saved your fiancé's life and all he gets is a job well done." I looked at him cross eyed, Rose copied me. Caledon broke.

"Perhaps you could join us for dinner, tomorrow night. To regale our group, with your heroic tale." He said, bemused. I looked to Jack hopefully, I caught his eye and he winked at me.

"Sure. Count me in." He nodded to me.

"Good, this should be interesting." He turned to me. "You can go now."

Oliver and I pushed passed him and scampered through the doors that led to the staterooms and beyond that, Oliver must have seen the look on my face.

"What are you thinking, Josephine?" He said warily.

"I'm thinking you and me are gonna find a way into that dinner tomorrow night!"

"Easy for you to say!" He called as he headed back down to steerage.


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter 7

Making It Count

"Mother, may I ask another question?" I asked her as we sat together on the promenade deck, tea cups poised in our hands. Mr. Hockley had informed her that I had been out on deck after hours and now she had taken to having me at her side at all times. She took me everywhere, which was basically to breakfast, lunch and whatever other social gathering she had planned. I was going stir crazy, just having to sit there and smile while she carried on a conversation was bad enough. I had to get into that dinner, I had to!

"What do you want?" She too, was getting sick of me.

"Could I go to dinner with you tonight, in the dining saloon?" I pleaded, making my famous sad face that felt so similar to the one Rose had made last night that I almost smiled.

"That is not a suitable place for children." She shrilled bitterly.

"Please, mother, I'll be good, I promise! Besides, what better way is there to learn how to become a proper young lady than to observe other proper young ladies?" I saw it in her eyes; she wanted to let me go. But she wasn't sure whether she should indulge my wishes when I had been so naughty over the past day or so.

"Fine. But any ill behaviour and you'll be spending the rest of the voyage in your room, do we understand each other." She still looked reluctant.

"Perfectly!" I said, hugging her around her waist.

"And when we get to the states we're going to have your head examined." She added.

"One more question, mummy. Can we sit with Mrs. Bukator and her family again?"

The first class dining room was a sight to be seen as well. Even if the whole ship was a squalid sham, this very room alone would make up for it. It was made entirely out of gilded oak paneling with a glass domed ceiling that made the room feel endless. There was a clock at the base of the grand staircase, carved out with immense detail. The gilded staircase opened out into a large area where passengers in tuxes and ravishing evening gowns mingled as they waited for their supper. Everything about that room seemed to glow and shine from the honey colored wood to the people themselves.

Then you headed down another flight of golden stairs and you were in the actual dining part of the ship. This room was just as pleasing to the eye with white panels and columns. The tables were already set with glass and porcelain dinnerware atop white linen tables and at each tale was a beautiful assorted bouquet of flowers.

We were seated at a table with none other than the Countess of Rothes herself. She smiled at me and complimented me on my dress which was made of a dark green shiny fabric, it was pretty but horribly stifling around the waist which is saying something considering I don't have much of one, but I thanked her anyway. Also at our table was Sir Cosmo and Lady Duff Gordon, whoever they were, John Astor who according to my mother is the richest man in the world, and of course Margaret Brown, and Mr. Andrews were there too.

I searched the room anxiously for any sightings of Jack and Rose before I received a very painful kick in the shins telling me I should either sit down like a lady or lose my dining privileges, so I sat down. And just as I did so Jack appeared beside me, with Rose on his arm.

"Hiya." He gave me a nod. Rose smiled and waved daintily. He sat Rose and pulled out the chair next to me to sit down in. Once they were both seated they both beamed at me with vaguely knowing eyes. Cal saw them and looked at me too, but in a very different way.

"Tell us of the accommodations in steerage, Mr Dawson. I hear their quite good on this ship." Ruth Dewitt Bukator said buoyantly, you almost couldn't tell she meant it as a snub. Jack paused for a moment, as if considering her words for what they really were, before he answered.

"Best I've seen, ma'am." He said. "Hardly any rats." The entire table chuckled at Jack's words. Almost none of them acted as Mrs. Dewitt Bukator had. They liked Jack and they accepted him, it didn't matter that he was a man of less than fine breeding or wealth. My mother however, inched my chair closer to hers when she heard those words escape Jack's mouth, but as penance for a long boring day, I inched it back, even closer to Jack than before.

"Mr. Dawson is joining us from the third class," Said Mr. Hockley. "He was of some assistance to my fiancé last night. It was painfully obvious that Cal was trying to avoid the fact that Jack had saved Rose's life. I had every intention of bringing it up too when my mother leaned over and held a firm grip on my arm reminding me to keep my composure.

"It turns out that Mr. Dawson is quite a fine artist." Rose piped in. "He was kind enough to show me some of his work today." I looked at Jack excitedly. They had met up today, on their own. I could wait to tell Oliver, to rub it in that I had been right about them.

"Rose and I differ somewhat in our definition of fine art." Cal said. "Not to impugn your work, sir." He said politely, though he clearly did. But Jack nodded as to show he was not offended. Sometimes I saw so much of myself in Jack, sometimes it just wasn't there. Like for instance if someone would have said that to me I would have snapped at them something fierce. That's what Rose and I shared, unlike most girls, we did bite.

"You should see this one's artwork." Jack stated, raising his champagne glass to me. "She's gonna be someone great someday." I grinned at him, not realizing the true meaning of his words until it hit me. I was his child. And if I really was a true orphan than he would die before I could even hold my head up. The only question is, how?

The waiter had appeared at Jack's side with a tray of horribly odd looking assortment of food.

"And how do you take your caviar, sir?" The old man inquired.

"No caviar for me. Never did like it much." Jack answered. He and Rose exchanged glances. Mrs. Dewitt Bukator watched as her daughter exchanged knowing smirks with Jack, clearly displeased, she set out to try and change her only daughter's mind about this lowly cohort that she had clearly already befriended.

"And where exactly do you live, Mr. Dawson." She implored, thin eyebrows arched in anticipation.

"Well, right now my address is the RMS Titanic, after that I'm on God's good humor." Jack replied earnestly.

"And how is it you have means to travel?"

"I work my way from place to place, on tramp steamers and such," Jack said with a scratch of his nose. "I won my ticket on Titanic here at a lucky hand in poker, a very lucky hand." Rose smirked at him.

"A real man makes his own luck, right Dawson?" Cal contradicted. "Again, Jack was too good a man to say no. He nodded.

"And you find that sort of ruthless existence _appealing_, do you?" Mrs. Dewitt Bukator asked, her voice plagued with ice.

"Well yes ma'am, I do." Said Jack honestly. "I mean, I've got everything I need here, right with me. Got air in my lungs, a few blank sheets of paper. I mean, I love waking up in the morning not knowing what's going to happen." He took a bite out of his dinner role. "I figure life's a gift and I don't intend on wasting it. You don't know what hand you're gonna get dealt next. You learn to take life as it comes at you. To make each day _count. _

"Well said Jack." Margaret Brown said, in agreement. From across the table, Rose raised her glass.

"To making it count." She toasted, she looked directly at Jack, smiling as if she had done something bold. The whole table joined in and copied her, Cal giving a smile of discomfort before tilting his wine glass slightly. My mother looked at me in disapproval as I raised my glass too, and clanked it against Jack's.

"I think it's time you went to bed." She commanded gently as if to only suggest it. "Retire to the room if you please, I'm going to stay here for a while." I did not protest. It was time for her to learn the hard way. I curtsied goodnight to everyone at the table, just as the lady had taught me, and gave Jack a swift hug around the neck. Everyone at the table except my mother and Ruth gave sighs to its sweetness.

I glided out of the dining saloon quickly and into the corridor but instead of taking the lifts to B deck where my cabin awaited me, I pushed open the doors and ran down the steps that led to the bowels of the ship, thinking it was time I paid a visit to Oliver.

The first class dining room was a dead zone compared to the third class recreation room. Jovial, Gaelic music thundered through the smoky room and people were everywhere dancing, talking and laughing. Despite the thick smell of sweat and cigar smoke, the air felt so much lighter down in steerage than in first class. Like it was actually acceptable to laugh and play whereas up above it was discouraged to the highest degree.

"I thought you'd come." Oliver appeared at my side. He was no longer wearing that silly hat and his hair stuck up in its normal way, the way I liked it best. "It's much better party than that first class rubbish, isn't it?" He flashed me a lopsided grin.

"First Class is one big funeral compared to this!" I breathed, the music pounding in my ears. We dodged couples swirling around the floor and went to sit down at one of the tables that had been pushed aside.

At the table, Oliver grabbed the mug of beer on the table and took a long swig of it, smacking his lips before handing it to me to drink out of. I set it back down on the table and shot him a nasty stare. He laughed at me.

"What? First Class living gotten to you, already?" He slapped his leg, spitting alcohol out of his nose as he did so. Oliver had changed, just as I had, and it was this ship that changed him. That day at the orphanage he had almost been too afraid to step out of line let alone make a break for it. Now he seemed willing to try anything, he had been liberated just as I had been restrained and I wasn't so sure that was a good thing.

"Jack was at dinner, just like I said he would be!" I said to Oliver as he took another gulp of liquor. "I really think they've fallen in love, I really do." Oliver saw the color swell in my face and just smiled, his dark eyes twinkling. I had really never appreciated how handsome Oliver had become. He was no longer that scrawny, timid boy I knew from the work house, now he looked healthy and happy, even muscular in some ways. And for a flickering moment, I wished he would let me kiss him on his sweaty forehead, but only for a moment.

"I guess you were right." He said pointing over my shoulder to where a couple was dancing, a tall boy with shaggy blonde hair dragging a scarlet haired girl in a glittering dress around the room to a rhythmic jig, they were laughing.

"I told, I told you!" I jeered poking at his ribs over and over again. He tensed and dropped his glass, beer splattering over the floor.

"They really do look happy, Jo. I'm glad for you." He said hoarsely, His fingers grazing my hand as if to take it in his, but it stopped there. I looked back at Jack and Rose who were spinning around in circles, Rose's head thrown back in fits of laughter.

"Oliver, will you dance with me?" I asked abruptly, not really knowing where it came from or why I said it. The old Oliver would have recoiled at the very thought of dancing, let alone with a girl in a frilly green dress. But he looked at me with those same puppy dog eyes and nodded.

"I owe you, I suppose, for getting me out of the orphanage." he said quietly. "Without you, there would be no _this_." He sighed looking around at all the commotion. He got up and extended it to me and I took it, this time, thinking that no matter where I went or what I saw, I would always remember my time on the Titanic as the place where my parents fell in love, the very best time of my life . How very wrong I was.


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter 8

Flying

I could have stayed there, in that place forever. Oliver spun me round and round, but I never got dizzy and I never got tired. All I had to do was look into Oliver's eyes and I knew where I was and no matter what happened, if we went back to 1923 or stayed here forever it would be okay, because we were together and they, Jack and Rose, were together. Nothing else seemed to matter much.

The last thing I remember from the party was flopping back into the chair beside Oliver, watching Jack and Rose gallop around the room. I remember feeling free and happy and very tired. The next thing I knew I was staring up at the sparkling night sky, in Jack Dawson's arms.

They were singing, Jack and Rose. A song so familiar that I could have sworn I had heard it before, maybe as a lullaby.

"_Come Josephine in my Flying machine, and it's up she goes... up she goes!" _I kept my eyes closed, not wanting to ruin their moment. I wanted to remain there forever, eyes closed, listening to them sing that song over and over again.

"Well here we are." Rose said, kind of solemnly

"Should I wake her up?" He said to Rose. I could feel his warm breath on my face as he spoke.

"I don't want to go back." She sighed; she leaned over and stoked my cheek. Her hands were so soft and smooth it felt like she was barely touching me. "I don't think little Josephine wants to go back, either. She looks so content there." My eyes flickered open and I saw Rose walk towards the end of the promenade looking up at the sky. "Look. It's so beautiful." I felt Jack lay me gently down on one of the deck chairs to follow her. I opened my eyes.

"So vast and endless!" She breathed, swinging herself around on one of the ropes that tied down the funnels."We're so small. My crowd, they think they're giants...they're not even dust in god's eye."

"You know, there's been a mistake. You're not one of them. You've been mailed to the wrong address!" Jack joked.

"I did, didn't I!" Said Rose, laughing. "Look, a shooting star!" Rose pointed upward at the streak of white light sprinting across the endless night sky.

"You know...my pops used to tell me," Jack stated," Every time you saw one it was a soul going to heaven." He looked around the sky, as if scanning it for more shooting stars.

"I like that." Rose said dreamily. "Aren't we supposed to wish on it?" She asked looking at Jack.

"Why? What would you wish for?" I got that tingly feeling at the bottom of my stomach as their eyes met again.

"Something I can't have."

I closed my eyes again, as I heard footsteps walking toward me, and a loving hand on my shoulder.

"Come on now, Josephine." Rose whispered softly. "It's time to take you back to your mother."I pretended to rouse."Say goodnight to Jack." She smiled.

I fumbled toward him throwing my arms around his waist, taking in his scent, charcoal and cigarette smoke. I didn't want to let go, but I had to.

"Good night Jo." He said, squeezing me, before sending me back in Rose's direction. "Keep drawing remember." I nodded sleepily, and yawned. I must have trembled a bit from the cold because Rose put her arms around me.

"Jeez, you two sure you're not related?" Jack said, teasingly.

"Good Night, Jack." Rose said plainly, ushering me through the doors to the first class suites, leaving Jack standing on the deck.

The next morning I was punished, but not as severely as I would have been if I hadn't come in with Rose. My mother thought I had been talking with her, she thought I had been observing her to learn how to become a good little socialite. And I was glad for it. If she knew where we really where she probably would have had an aneurism or something.

I was made to stay in the stateroom the whole day, on Saturday. But I didn't mind. Rose and Jack were together, even if it wasn't spoken yet it was certainly there, and I had spent a wonderful night with Oliver. We were friends for now, but who knows how else he had changed to make me revolt him.

The next morning, Sunday morning, I was made to attend mass in the dining saloon with the other first class passengers. Again, I didn't mind really, having gone to church every Sunday of my life since I was old enough to walk. I was eager to see Rose again, to ask her about Jack and If she was planning on dumping that nark. But when I got their something was different about her.

She seemed stiff, almost mechanical. She didn't smile or talk, in fact she barely moved unless prompted. I could tell when her icy gaze met mine, that something had happened, something she couldn't say, but was trying to with her eyes.

"Mother, may I sit next to Rose?" I pleaded. She shook her head.

"Winifred, Rose is engaged, she's practically a grown woman! It would not be proper for you two to be seen chatting together like two little girls, it's just not done." She established, pulling me into the nearest chair, forcing my behind to its surface. I scowled.

"You seemed fine with it when I walked in at quarter to midnight with her!" I snapped. "Besides that, I really do need to speak with her, its urgent!"

"What's urgent, young lady, is for you to start behaving like yourself and not some ill behaved street urchin." I smiled a bit at the irony of her words. I was really an ill behaved street urchin, just disguised in wealthy clothing.

As the sermon began and people began to sing I couldn't help but feel a sense of dread, a sense that all my plans were going to go horribly wrong. It all started when Cal looked back at me, his eyes teaming with hostility. They lingered on me for a moment as if trying to instill some sort of fear, before leering back at the entryway where two servants were confronting someone, tall with shaggy dirty blonde hair. Jack was here...to see Rose.

My elation was short lived, for the next thing I saw was Cal gave a subtle nod to his valet, Mr. Lovejoy, who in turn strolled to the back of the room to confront Jack on behalf of Cal. I glowered at Cal from over the top of the book of hymns, all he did was grin. So he knew I had been enforcing this impossible relationship between his fiancé and that steerage boy. I wasn't perturbed by it. I thought that he didn't have the will to harm me in any way just as he had thought I could be easily counteracted. We were both wrong.

I watched as Jack was taken by the cuff and pulled away from the doors of the dining saloon, looking back insistently trying to find Rose's eyes. I could tell she heard his commotion, she knew Jack was there, but she never looked up. And then I knew that Rose had buckled to the will of her mother. She would not see Jack again.

After Sunday services my mother took me back to our stateroom, sat me down on the sofa, and started to cry.

"I-I don't...I don't understand you W-Winifred!" She wept, dissolving into tears. "You were always s-such a good little girl. Always courteous, always respectful." She collapsed into the arm chair by the fire place, dabbing her swollen eyes with her handkerchief. "I don't...kn-now what I did to ensue such deplorable etiquette!" She looked beside herself, but I could understand why. The daughter she knew, before I had come to replace her, must have been pruned to reflect the highest breeding and grace. This poor woman's perfect angel had been replaced with the most difficult, sour tempered child that had ever passed through Saint Catherine's Orphanage, and she didn't even know it.

"Listen to me." I commanded, walking over to her and sitting on the arm of her chair. "I'm sorry for all the trouble I have caused over the past few days, really I didn't mean it, but you have to understand something!" I said, my voice rising uncontrollably. "I am not your daughter!" She looked traumatized. "I'm not sure where she is, or why I'm here instead of her, but the fact is I am!" She was still balling in disbelief. I slid off the arm of her chair and started to pace the floor as I often did when I was frustrated.

"All I know is...I was sent here for a reason! I was meant to do something, to change something!" Tears started to stream down my face, I was losing my composure fast. "And I need you to let me go, so I can find out." The poor woman looked beside herself; she was losing her only daughter to something she couldn't even comprehend. It pained me to see her this way, but a strange sense of forthcoming, of foreboding, that made me realize that this could be my only chance to do it.

The woman, Winifred's mother, put her face her hands and moaned like she would faint at any moment. She looked at me with her watery grey eyes, so light in contrast to mine.

"Just go, Winifred. Just go." She said quietly, with a wave of her delicate hand. I ran over to her and gripped her hand in mine, squeezing it tightly, it was the least I could do.

"Thank you, mother." I whispered to her, before leaving out the gilded doors.

The late afternoon sun was hanging low over the ocean as Oliver and I made our way out to the promenade deck. After my confrontation with my mother, I had gone down to steerage to fetch him. I took him to see the Grand Staircase, and the Palm Court which he had so desperately wanted to see when I described its grandeur to him. We had played there for hours, only to be chased away by the waiters and stewards that circled the rooms.

I tried to forget about the fact that Rose had gone back to being faithful to Cal, faithful to her place in society. I had struggled to accept that their love was impossible, that maybe Cal was my real father. If so, than I guess it didn't matter how much I played with history, it would always come out the same way. But in the back of my mind I couldn't get passed the similarities between me and Jack Dawson.

"Don't worry about it." Said Oliver. We sat down on a bench on the first class promenade, looking out at the bow and the brilliant ocean beyond it. It was breathtaking to the eyes and I almost didn't catch what Oliver had said.

"I'm not worried, Oliver." I sighed, taking in the scenery. "It doesn't matter anymore. If this really is a dream, I guess there's no point in fretting over things that can never be. I just wish this had never happened." My voice cracked a little, but I would never let myself cry in front of him. I had instilled so much hope in Jack and Rose. To have it snatched away from me by sheer fate was devastating, but I could overcome it.

"I don't." Said Oliver. "I love it here. Its loads better than rotting away in some orphanage." And besides, I kinda like belonging to someone." He was talking about the family he had come to be in, his mother and his little brothers. He was so lucky to be in a family that let him be himself and not some prototype.

"I didn't say I didn't like it here, on this ship." I said, affronted. "I love it here! It's so big and beautiful; you could live here your entire life and not even see half of it." I stared down at the ship's bow, teeming slightly as it bounded across the sea. "I wish I could never leave."

"Then why'd you say you wish you'd never come here!" He asked indignantly.

"Because it's given me false hope! I was so hopeful that Rose and Jack would be together. Now look at me! I guess it's true, what they say, ignorance is bliss."

"I wouldn't give up now, Look." He pointed to the very tip of the bow where someone was leaning in the crook of it surveying the scarlet sun melting into the violet water. Someone was approaching him from behind, a young woman in a navy dress, her spiraling red hair blowing in the slight breeze.

"What are they saying?" I gasped, racing to the railing to get a better view of the two of them, together.

"How should I know? What do I look like, a magician!" I rolled my eyes at him, turning back to Jack and Rose. Jack took her hands and helped her up onto the guard rail, standing right behind her. He unfolded her arms so they extended like wings. They were flying, the massive power of Titanic propelling them forward, and the glow of the brilliant sunset upon their faces.

"Oliver, it's happening, it's really happening. Just like I thought it would from the beginning." I watched them start to face each other, gazing at each other in awe for a moment, before their lips finally met.

"You're not screaming?" Said Oliver playfully.

"No. Let's not ruin the moment." I said, putting my head in Oliver shoulders, as we watched them fall in love. Eventually they got down, taking each other's hands and dashed down the deck and out of view.

"Aren't we going to follow them?" Oliver asked.

I shook my head, leaning into Oliver's shoulder, feeling content. "Let them be for a while. After all they've been through..."


	9. Chapter 9

Chapter 9

Deception

I quickened my pace as I made my way down the B deck corridor. I had left Oliver on the promenade, thinking it was time I went and apologized to my mother. But I never got there. The door to Rose's state room was slightly ajar, horribly familiar voices drifted out into the corridor.

"Anything missing?" Lovejoy asked, peering over his master's broad shoulders. Cal was standing before a large, jade green safe. His hands prodded through it for a moment, before pulling out an old leather bound tablet, looking curious. I had seen that tablet before, in the arms of Jack Dawson as he sketched little Cora Cartmell from afar. An enormous lump began to clot in my throat. What was Caledon Hockley doing with Jack's drawings? Awful scenarios flashed through my mind and I tried to focus on something else. But just then Cal opened the tablet and gazed down at its loose contents in pure vexation. He crinkled the paper in his fist, closing his eyes to ease his temper.

"I've got a better idea." He said, still angered, but there was a flicker of that same maliciousness in his steely dark eyes.

"What do you mean by it, sir?" Inquired Lovejoy, looking intrigued.

"I mean..." He said silkily, sliding Jack's drawings into its original spot in the wardrobe. "There's no way in hell I'm letting Rose abandon me, just to run off with some gutter rat. No, I have an idea." He started to pace the carpet of the stateroom, furiously.

"Since he is after all an impoverished artist, why not show his true colors to the one he loves most?" He took something out from behind the small of his back, swinging it from his thickened fingers. The shimmering necklace bore a large blue diamond in its center, shaped like a heart of pure ice. Encrusted around its perimeter and up around the chain that fastened about the neck were a series of small, brilliantly white diamonds.

"So you're saying..."

"We plant the necklace on the little thief, and when comes back around with Rose..." Cal's voice trailed off purposely.

"We have him arrested for burglary. It's genius."

I gasped, almost a little too loudly, backing away from the door. This couldn't be happening, I couldn't let Cal do this to Jack, do this to Rose. But what I hadn't realized is that Lovejoy had heard me breath and was now advancing towards the door to investigate.

I whipped around, making myself flat against the wall. There wasn't time to flee. Lovejoy would surely pursue me if he saw me running. Maybe, just maybe he would only poke his face out the door for a second. Maybe his eyes, obscured by age, would not be able to spot such a small child in a white dress crouched against a white wall.

But immediately as he reached the door frame, his eyes were drawn to my shocking hair, I didn't have a chance. He glared at me with his tarnished eyes, grabbing my arm and yanking me upwards with such vigor I barely managed to find my footing as he wrangled me into the room where Cal was waiting. I didn't go quietly.

I whimpered and thrashed at him, but his grip was firm, desperate even, embedding his nails into my skin.

"Looks like we have a little audience." Lovejoy said smoothly, tightening his grip on my arm. Cal moved forward, slowly, grinning crookedly, though his eyes still burned with hatred. He knelt so close to my face I could smell the cigars on his breath.

"So, how much did you hear?" He implored, cunningly. I wanted to slap him, to inflict such pain on him that he bled. I wanted to spit in his smug face and tell him I'd heard everything and that over my dead body would he ever see Rose and Jack torn apart. But deep down, I knew better.

"I didn't hear anything, I swear." I said indifferently, staring down Cal as if he were the only thing worth looking at. "I just...came to find Rose."

"Really." He retreated from my face and resumed pacing the room aimlessly, a wicked smile still etched on his sickeningly handsome face. "I know you're not a stupid child, _Josephine_." My heart stopped in my chest. "Insolent and impetuous yes, naive maybe, but stupid no."

"How did you know my name isn't-?"

"I know a lot of things, Ms. Dawson. Mostly things that certain people would rather me ignorant of." He stopped and faced me again, addressing me more like a small child than someone he was interrogating." For example, I know that you, like my fiancé, seem to favor the third class, mostly the male population." He was referring to Oliver. My head pulsed in anger, but I retrained myself from exploding at him. "I also know that you attended a party there with Rose and that you are very partial to them."

"So." I snapped, a little too harshly.

"So, because you're not daft, I know that _you know_ that Rose and that slum dog ran off tonight, and have yet to be found." He said trying to keep his composure, but his words were bitter. I smirked involuntarily.

"Exactly," he responded," which is why I must inquire again. How much _did_ you hear?" I couldn't help myself.

"I know your planning on distorting Jack's image by making him look like a thief!" I spat. "And it won't work! Rose knows Jack more than anyone, she'll see right through your little scheme! She won't believe Jack stole anything, that's just not Jack!"

"So where were you really headed when you decided to eavesdrop?"

"My mother." I said earnestly.

"Well I'm afraid, since you know so much, I can't very well send you back to your mother can I." Cal reasoned, still smiling unpleasantly. He turned back to his safe rummaging through its contents. There was a flash of silver through the heavy air and suddenly the barrel of a pistol was pressed to my forehead.

"Make any sound, and you may just find a bullet in your head, do I make myself clear?" I nodded rapidly, keeping my eyes on the trigger. "Now, get in the coat closet, quickly!" He demanded, his voice turning ominous. But instead of letting me act on my own, Cal lifted me under the shoulders and shoved me roughly in the closet. "And do anything to attract attention while there's company and I'll shoot your beloved Jack dead. No one will blame me after all he did steal from me!" He added triumphantly. "And once they're gone I'll waste you too, do we understand each other?"

"Yes." I said darkly.

"Good." He said, before slamming the door shut, lock clicking behind him.

Being alone in the darkness was a vaguely familiar experience. I could barely make out my hand in front of me, but I could still hear everything going on outside. The two of them, Cal and Lovejoy, congratulated themselves for a moment, complementing them on how well they had taken care of "the little problem." Then, I heard the door open and click shut, and I was truly alone.

I sank down against the closet door, listening to my heart beat in my ears. Were they coming back? What would happen to Jack? How would Rose react? But most of all, Was I ever going to make it out of here?

Suddenly, as if some higher power was answering my silent inquisition, the closet began to tremble. The walls, the floors, even the ceiling of the enclosed spaced trembled, shuddered as if shivering from cold. The coat hangers clanked against each other like wind chimes and I thanked god Cal wasn't here to shoot me dead. Then the trembling stopped, and everything was still.

_What was that?_ It had been so subtle yet so violent due to the fact I was sitting on the floor. But just as I had finished my thought, I heard the door open. Cal walked in, followed by numerous others as I could tell by the many footfalls I heard as they entered.

"Very well, Mr. Hockley." Spoke a deep, accented voice. "What was the extent of the robbery?" I recognized the voice. It belonged to the Master at Arms.

"Just a very valuable diamond necklace." Said Cal with a forced rage. "From this safe, here." Hard footsteps walked towards the wardrobe to examine the safe; there was a rustle of paper as the master at arms examined the drawings.

"I think they're very good, sir." said the master at arms, admiring the drawings. There was a sharper rustle of parchment as Cal snatched them away.

"Don't touch anything!" He growled. "I want the entire room photographed!" I slid down so I laid flat on my stomach, watching the scene unfold through the crack beneath the door. Suddenly, two new sets of shoes appeared in the room, heels and leather work boots. The whole room went silent as they entered.

"Something serious has happened." Said a low, melodic voice I knew to be Rose's.

"Yes it has." Said Cal sternly, breaking the silence. "Two things dear to me have disappeared this evening, now that one of them is back, I have a pretty good idea where to find the other. Search him!"

"Take your coat off, sir."

"Now what!" Said a very annoyed, boyish voice. Jack Dawson was here. There was the sound of fabric wrinkling as the steward and the master at arms frisked Jack.

"Cal, what are you doing?" Rose implored. "We're in the middle of an emergency. What's going on?" The pitch of rose's voice was horribly urgent. So something really had happened with the ship.

"Is _this_ it?" Said the steward, there was a small tinkling noise as the necklace dangled in midair, taken from Jack's pocket. Cal responded positively, taking the necklace in his palms.

"Don't you believe it, Rose! Don't!" Jack said beseechingly.

"He couldn't have." Said Rose in disbelief. "I was with him the whole time. This is absurd!"

"Perhaps he did it while you were putting your clothes back on, dear." Cal uttered to Rose, under his breath. My hand flew to my mouth to stifle my gasp.

"Real slick, Cal. Rose they put it in my pocket!" Jack insisted to Rose in a whisper.

"Shut up!" Cal snapped viciously.

" Tisn't even your coat, is it son." Scoffed the Steward. "Property of A.L Ryerson."

"That was reported stolen today." Stated the master at arms.

"I just borrowed it; I was going to return it! Replied Jack, indignantly. "Listen Rose, you know I didn't do it Rose, you know it!" Rose didn't respond, as the two men started to hull jack out of the room.

"You know I didn't do it, Rose! You know me!" Jack desperate cries faded from ear shot. He was gone, taken, dragged off. And for the thousandth time in my life I felt completely alone in the world.


	10. Chapter 10

Chapter 10

A Promise to Keep

After everyone had departed from the room following Jack's arrest, there was a tense silence; even I could feel it through the thick closet door. Only Rose and Cal remained in the room, I could tell by the occasional deep vexed sighs that issued from Cal, as if he was about to say something but couldn't find the words. There was a loud thwack as Cal struck his fiancé upside the head.

"So it is a little slut, isn't it?" He muttered savagely. "You look at me when I'm talking to you!" A prompt knock at the stateroom door interrupted Cal's abusive interrogation.

"Mr. Hockley?" The voice of the steward entered the room, his voice was not at all panicked like I had expected, but very formal.

"Not now! We're busy!" Snarled Cal.

"Sir, I've been told to ask you to put on your lifebelts and come up to the boat deck." Said the steward, conveying no sense of danger.

"I said, not now!"

"I'm sorry to inconvenience you, Mr. Hockley, but it's Captain's orders." He informed Cal sincerely. "Now please, dress warmly. It's quite cold out tonight. Now may I suggest topcoats and hats?" He said it as if he had repeated it about a dozen times before.

"This is ridiculous." Uttered Cal irritated.

"Not, to worry, Miss." he assured, his footfalls leading up to Rose. "I'm sure it's just a precaution. Now, everyone from the first class seemed to be convening near the Grand Staircase, if you'll follow me..."

"Come along, Rose." Cal said sharply. There was a cascade of heavy footsteps, and then the door clicked shut. Silence.

I struggled to slow my labored breathing, but it proved almost impossible. My head was spinning due to lack of oxygen and too much information. For once during this long voyage I was not thinking about the turmoil that had separated Jack and Rose, but my own turmoil.

Rose had said something about an emergency, the steward had asked them to put their lifebelts on and head to the boat deck. This was no coincidence. Something was wrong. And I was trapped in this closet with no air and no one to answer my cries.

Would I die here? I asked myself, calmly. Is this how I wanted to die, locked in a closet by some shmuck only to die from suffocation or maybe something much greater?

"No!" I commanded myself out loud, with a wave of vigor and pure will power I rose from my position slouched against the wall and began to bang on the closet door furiously, shouting at the top of my lungs. I yelled and kicked until my lungs turned to concrete and I could no longer breathe and I collapsed back against the door. My thoughts strayed to Oliver, fast asleep in steerage, unaware that anything had happened. And to Jack, probably trapped just as I was in the ship's hold. Would I ever see them again?

Just then, the door gave out, and I fell backwards, sprawled out on the stateroom carpet, taking deep gulps of fresh air. Staring down at me was Rose's personal maid, Trudy, looking alarmed.

"Are you alright, Miss? Asked Trudy, helping me to my feet. I was dizzy, but I was alive. I leaned on Trudy for support for a moment until the room stopped spinning. I shook my head and began to stand upright.

"I'll be okay, Trudy." I assured her. "But please, I'm not a Miss. I'm a Josephine or a Jo."

"Oh." Said Trudy, startled by informality. She made a motion as to curtsy, but thought better of it as she saw my raised eyebrows. "Sorry." She smiled, bashfully. "There seems to be some sort of drill going on. Everyone at the staircase waiting to go out to the deck, including your mother. She's been asking for you quite persistently. I came back here to fetch Mrs. Dewitt Bukater's bag when I heard your banging."

"Thank you, Trudy. You have no idea how much you've done. I would have died in that closet." I hugged her around the waist; she tensed a bit but finally relaxed and patted my curls.

"Hurry and head down to the staircase, and try to avoid Mr. Hockley. He won't be pleased that you've managed to escape, I heard him say something to that effect before I left!" She chuckled, ushering me out the door. "And grab a coat while you're at it, it's quite cold out tonight." She smiled. She had no idea how cold it really was.

The grand staircase was more crowded than it had ever been at dinner. Everyone was dressed not in their usual evening attire, but in heavy wool and fur coats along with suede gloves and top hats. There were heated conversations as well as casual ones, and everyone seemed to have no clue what was actually going on. Whether it was a drill or something much graver, all the first-class passengers appeared to be outraged to be roused at such a late hour. Many of the men were trying to interrogate the stewards and officers that raced up and down the staircase, but they wouldn't let on to what was keeping them so busy. Even if they did, they were purposely vague.

"What's doing, sonny? You've got us all trussed up here and now we're cooling our heels!" Said Margaret Brown to a young steward who had come rushing by. He turned around to answer, he backs away stumbling over the stairs, looking nervous.

"S-sorry mum. L-let me go and find out." And then he was gone.

"I don't think anybody knows what the hell's going on around here." Margaret Brown sighed. My mother stood next to her, looking listless. When she spotted me coming down the staircase her face suddenly flooded with color as she ran up and lifted me off my feet with her smothering embrace.

"Winnie, My Winnie! I was so worried when you didn't come back! She sobbed, pulling me close to her. "But now your here! And you won't leave me again, will you? She said beseechingly. She bent down to my eye level to hear my answer. She looked so scared.

"No, mother." I said reluctantly. Did she not remember what I had told her earlier? If so she was clearly in denial, but I could not deny those pleading eyes. "I will not leave you."

"Good." She breathed in relief, hugging me once more. From over her shoulder I saw Cal and Mrs. Dewitt Bukater enter the room, Rose trailing behind them. She too looked lifeless. Cal looked irritated to the point of recklessness.

"It's just the god damned English doing everything by the book." Growled Cal.

"There's no need for language, Mr. Hockley." Said Mrs. Dewitt Bukater complacently, walking over to where my mother was standing with. Trudy was with her, she beamed at lingered near the foot of the staircase, looking perturbed, Rose standing near him, unresponsive. My mother had taken up a conversation with Rose's mother.

"Mother, I'll just be over there, with Rose." She gave a nod of comprehension, and I left her side to stand by Rose. I thought maybe if I stood behind her and talked softly I could avoid being noticed by Cal. But he spotted me, looking enraged.

"How did you-" He started, reaching out to try and grab my sleeve, but I dodged his hands and turned to Rose. She looked back at me with anxious eyes. Cal opened his mouth to try and stop me but Rose was quicker.

"Oh Cal, please, just let her talk." Said Rose annoyed, "Go on, Jo." I sighed, leering at Cal.

"Rose, I was eavesdropping on Cal earlier, I know it was wrong, but you must listen to me." I pleaded.

"Hold on-" Cal said affronted. Rose shot him a steely look that was so out of character it silenced even him.

"Rose, the whole thing with Jack and the necklace, it was a set up! Cal and-" Cal seized my arms, spinning me around on the spot, his face twisted in anger, he shook me furiously.

"What the hell do you think you're doing, brat!" He spat. "Remember my warning from earlier? Well it still applies." He looked evil. "You tell anyone, and I waste you, and Jack and whoever else decides to stand in my way!" He said in a whisper only low enough for me to hear. He scoffed. "How did you get out of that closet?" I looked at him wisely.

"Like you said, Mr. Hockley, I'm not stupid." He squeezed my arms in uncontrollable rage, he looked over my head at Rose but she had left her place behind me, dashing halfway up the stairs beckoning for Mr. Andrews to turn around. He follows her, dragging me along with him.

"Mr. Andrews! I saw the iceberg, and I see it in your eyes. Please tell me the truth." Rose demanded from Mr. Andrews, he looked somber.

"The ship will sink." My heart froze. Cal looked up incredulously.

"You're certain?" She asked.

"Yes..." Mr. Andrews said looking around at the grandeur of the magnificent ship. "In an hour or so...all this will be at the bottom of the Atlantic."

"My God." Cal gasped, releasing me from his grip.

"Please, tell only who you must, I don't want to be responsible for a panic." He said urgently. "And get to a boat, quickly. Don't wait." Rose followed his gaze which fell on me, because I was a child, of course. "You remember what I told you about the boats, Rose?"

"Yes, I understand. Thank you." Said Rose passively, her hand finally leaving her mouth. Mr. Andrews turned and left up the Grand Staircase, not looking back. One of the officers's walked in commanding people's immediate attention. He was giving instructions on what to do once we got onto the boat deck. I gulped. When would Oliver get up to the boat deck, when would they release Jack if ever? _The ship will sink. _I quivered. I didn't know how to swim.

"Come along, Rose, Winifred. It was Mrs. Dewitt Bukater who beckoned for both of us, my mother and Margaret Brown beside her. It was time to get on the life boats.

Many were hesitant to leave the warmth and brightness of the ship's interior, to get onto a small life boat in the dark, frigid night air. Cal dragged us all right up to the first life boat he spotted. Life Boat no. 6.

"Will the lifeboats be seated according to class?" Mrs. Dewitt Bukater asked into the open air. "I hope there not too crowded." Ruth said almost jokingly, my mother joined in chuckling.

"Oh, mother. Shut up!" Rose's temper flared. Mrs. Dewitt Bukater stared at her daughter, stunned, as if seeing her for the first time. "Don't you understand? The water is freezing and there aren't enough boats...not enough by half. Half the people on this ship are going to die!" Ruth stood still, frozen.

"Not the better half." Says Cal in a darkly amused voice, smiling wickedly at Rose. "You know, I should've kept that drawing. It'll be worth a lot more by morning." The words themselves did not seem to reach me as much as what they meant. They meant that Jack Dawson was going to die. I couldn't let that happen, and neither could Rose.

"You unimaginable bastard." She said to Cal wide eyed, she too looked like she was finally seeing the real Caledon Hockley. Suddenly the whole deck was bathed in a bright white light as fireworks burst overhead, then I knew I didn't have much time.

"Come on, Ruth, Marjorie. First Class seats are right up here." Margaret Brown was now in the lifeboat, helping mine and Rose's mother into the lifeboat. Once they were seated comfortably, she extended her hand to Rose. "Come on Rose, you're next darling." Rose just stared at her hand.

"Rose, what about Jack!" I found myself saying, but before I could add anything else Cal put his hand over my mouth. But it didn't make a difference. Rose backed away from the lifeboat, almost dissolving into the crowd, shaking her head.

"Goodbye, mother." She said indifferently, before turning and walking away into the sea of people, Cal pursuing her, Mrs. Dewitt Bukater still screaming her daughter's name. I make a motion to follow them, but then Mrs. Brown extended her hand to me.

"Come on, little Winnie, let's get you in this boat with your mother." I looked at my mother, her face showed no emotion, but her eyes pleaded me to stay. But I couldn't. Jack, Oliver, Rose, I just couldn't. Then again, I had a promise to keep.

I bent low over the boat, reaching out and taking her hand in mine. The officer made a motion to pick me up and lift me up into the boat, but I refused it.

"Mother, I know I made you a promise that I would never leave you." I said slowly, this was painful. Even though I hated to admit it, I had become attached to her. But I had become even more so with Jack and Rose. "But you must understand, I have to stay! I have to make sure Jack and Rose are safe, my life depends on it!" It was only then I realized how stupid those words just sounded. "But I will not break my promise. I will always be with you! Your my mother, I'm apart of you. Even if I can't be with you physically I with always be there in spirit. I promise." Marjorie looked like she hit rock bottom. Her face turned grey and she stuttered the words no over and over again, she tightened her grip on my hand.

"Bye, Mama." I said, before pulling my hand away and diving into the ocean of passengers to find Rose.


	11. Chapter 11

Chapter 11

Deep Rising

I ran back into the A deck corridor, not really knowing where to look for Rose. Part of me, a very large part, wanted to go back out on the boat deck and get in the lifeboat with everyone else. Part of me wanted to feel that sense of safety and security and relief of being saved from a sinking ship. But I knew if I left, the people I loved most may not survive. And living whilst they were not would be even more unbearable than dying.

I went back onto the grand staircase, looking around at the mass of first class passengers, trying to spot the jumble of red curly hair I knew to be Rose. But before I got the chance to really search the crowd, a hand grabbed my shoulder and spun me around on the spot. Cal was there, but when he saw my face, his face dropped.

"Thought you were Rose." He muttered, letting go.

"Wouldn't the height difference tipped you off." I said angrily. "Did you see which way she went?"

"If I did would I be talking to you?" He said haughtily. He surveyed me from top to bottom as if trying to read my mind. "I was wrong about you, Josephine. Maybe you really are a stupid little girl."

"Excuse me."

"You heard Mr. Andrews, _the ship will sink_. You had your chance to get to safety, to keep your young life. And yet your still here." He smiled to himself. "Stupid."

"At least I care about people." I said, my voice cracking with emotion. "At least I have people who care about me! You don't have anyone!" I said as if realizing it for the first time. "Nobody' going to care if you drown, except for your banker and I... I feel sorry for you." My words seemed to hit Cal like a ton of bricks and with one blank look he disappeared into the crowd without another word.

Once he was really gone I decided if I couldn't find Rose I'd go and find Oliver and try to get him to help me, or otherwise get him on a lifeboat. At least one of us should survive.

It was hard to believe there had been any accident going down the first few decks, everything seemed so solid and dry. it seemed crazy that something so large and sturdy could be swallowed by the ocean. But once I passed E deck, everything changed.

As I ran down the labyrinth of corridors at G deck, I noticed the sound my boots made as they hit the floor, tiny splashing noises like walking in the rain. Slowly the water became ankle deep, then knee deep. It soaked my stockings, and made my legs feel nimble and numb.

But the all the water disappeared as I climbed toward the stern of the ship. That's were all the people were. Hundreds of third class passengers waiting behind locked gates to be led up to the lifeboats. The men stood at the foot of the gates shaking them and demanding the officers to open them. The women stood behind, some with small children in their arms. I couldn't understand why they weren't being let up to the boat decks. Didn't they deserve as much of a chance to live as the first and second class?

I saw Oliver standing by his mother and brothers towards the back of the crowd, he smiled at me weakly.

"What are you doing here, shouldn't you be in a lifeboat 'er something." He said diffidently, he yawned stretching out his bony arms and placing one behind his little brother's shoulders, ignoring me.

"I came to find you." I said, trying to command his attention as I used to but he didn't seem the least bit interested. "Listen, Oliver" I said in a whisper. "There's been an accident, this ship is sinking! You have to help me find Jack and Rose so we can get out of here before it goes down." Oliver looked at me and laughed.

"This is the Titanic, Jo. It can't sink! Besides," He said firmly, "I'm the oldest boy, I can't leave my family during an emergency just to run off with you."

"Oliver, these people aren't your real family!" I told him. "Remember, you and me we're orphans from 1923! I'm your best friend, you must help me, so we can get out of here before we drown!"

"First of all," He growled, his temper rising rapidly, "I don't have to do anything for you! You think you know everything, but you have no idea what's really going to happen! This could all be just some safety drill and you're going to drag me up on deck on in the middle of the night just to come back here in the morning when it's over. No, I not gonna let you boss me around no more!" He huffed. " I'm staying here." He squeezed his brother's shoulder's looking ferociously adamant. It was the first time I'd noticed his voice had developed an Irish twang to it. This wasn't Oliver anymore.

"Fine, then." I yelled, backing away. "Stay here and drown with your _family! _See if I care! I've got a family of me own ta find." I mimicked his Irish accent. Tears were forming in my eyes, this would be the last time I'd ever see my best friend. We'd been together since we we're infants and we couldn't even be together in out last moments, a lump caught in my throat. "You know, I might have even loved you at one point, but now you can forget it!" I couldn't contain my sadness anymore, and for the first time, I let myself cry in front of him.

"So Goodbye, Oliver MacAvery." And I turned and walked away.

This time I knew there was no going back. Oliver had made his choice, he would stay with the Rice's and I had made my choice when I left my mother in the lifeboat, I would stand by my real parents and make sure no harm came to them. I had thought before, even if we both died it would be okay because I had Oliver. But now I was more frightened than ever I would die alone in these corridors and I would never reach Jack and Rose.

I let myself submerge into the water again, it was horribly cold and I turned white and trembled all over. I had to keep going, even if I became lost, I had to keep moving so at least I wouldn't freeze to death.

But after a while, I began to lose faith in my sense of direction. All the walls and corridors looked the same, I'd find a staircase or an open door and it would either lead back down into deeper water, or to another blocked passageway. Either way I knew I was doomed.

I sank back against the wall, letting the arctic water creep up the fabric in my dress and soak into my skin all the way up to my shoulders, shivering so violently it looked like I was vibrating. Was this what death felt like? I had no will to lift myself out of the water; soon the biting cold made my whole body go numb and I relaxed against the wall, my eyes closing, maybe even forever.

"Josephine, No! Wake up! Get up! Please!" My eyes fluttered open and there was Oliver, his gorgeous brown eyes staring into my own with so much panic.

"Oliver." I spoke softly, my voice almost gone. He loped his arms under my shoulders and lifted me to my feet which didn't seem to want to support my weight anymore.

"Come On, Jo! Stand up! Please be Okay!" His voice was desperate as he tried to get me to stand by myself. My dress was heavy with water, but I managed to stand up straight, swaying where I stood.

"You came back." I whimpered, looking up into his face again. He looked like Oliver again.

"Course I did." He said, flashing his famous grin. " I was standing there with my mother and she was trying to calm us down, telling us that we'd grow up and get married and forget tonight ever happened, and then I started to think and...I thought that the only person I could imagine ever growing up and getting married to...is you." I had never adored Oliver more than at that moment. I leaned in and pecked him swiftly on the lips." He didn't make a face as I expected him to, he smiled again and added. " plus I would feel really awkward drowning with people I didn't know."

I laughed, hugging him so hard he gasped. We stood there for such a long time, squeezing each other that we didn't notice the water swelling up around us reaching our waists.

"Oliver, we have to move! We have to get back to the decks!" I said over the roar of swelling water.

"Okay, Okay." He said looking around. "I know the way." He took my hand and led me through hall after hall until finally we found an open stairwell.

"Yes!" I cheered, a little too loudly, as we stumbled up to a dry E deck corridor. "Oliver you're amazing!"

"Thanks." He said, getting to his feet. "Where do we go now?"

"Well, If Jack and Rose have any sense at all, they'll be on deck." I said. "Even if there not, It's our best bet."

It was when we were dashing up the stairs to the decks that I first noticed the floor was tilting, slanting upwards. The Titanic was going fast.

The deck was much more crowded then when I had seen it last. There were people of all classes everywhere. Nobody simply stood around anymore, waiting to be placed on a lifeboat. People were dashing around, screaming and wailing, while others said there last goodbyes to their husbands and fathers before stepping into lifeboats. But to my horror, gunshots rang through the air as well as the bursting sounds of fireworks form high above, adding to the hysteria. people were starting to panic. Everything, the little order the officer's had held at the beginning, was completely gone.

"Jo, look!" Oliver pointed to the bow, where water gushed over its sides almost submerging it completely. Someone had floated deck chairs across the bridge so women could get to lifeboats safely without wetting there skirts. "So it really is going down!" He said in shock.

"Jeez, I think you should've guessed that when we were waist deep in water!" I snapped at him, regaining his focus. "Now, come on, let's go this way." As we moved upwards I started to hear music, the first class orchestra was playing off to the side. It was cheery music, meant to instill calm but It only made me think of my first time eating in the dining saloon with Jack, and it made me want to cry.

There they are!" Oliver shouted over the commotion. He pointed to a couple in line for a boat. Jack's arms are wrapped securely around Rose, trying to protect her. It was a sweet moment, and seeing that made me forget about the bitter cold that tore at my skin as well.

There was a large crowd around this particular lifeboat. I saw one officer lift a girl about my age from her father's arms, into a lifeboat with her mother and sister, leaving her father on a doomed ship. Suddenly I was afraid to get too close to the boat, I feared if i did I too would be scooped up by an officer and separated from Oliver and my parents, the only people I had in the world.

"I'm not going without you." I heard Rose say to Jack as they neared the boat.

" No. You have to go, now." Said Jack firmly, taking Rose in his arms again.

"No, Jack.' Said Rose, almost pleadingly.

"Get in the boat, Rose." Jack ordered, his eyes writhing with emotion.

"No, Jack."

"Yes. Get on the boat." Jack urged pushing Rose in the direction of the officer.

"Yes, get on the boat, Rose." Caledon Hockley appeared out of the jumble of men, looking ragged, exasperated. But his voice changed as he saw the state of the two of them, worn and wet. "My God. Look at you. You look a fright. Here" he unwrapped the blanket from Rose's shoulders, shoving it at Jack, before removing his own overcoat and placing it around her shoulders. So there it was. The coat I would be wrapped in as a newborn being given to my mother by the man she loathed most. There was something poignant about it, but I couldn't say what.

She staggered away from him, in shock and detest. Jack caught her in his arms and she practically buried herself in his chest. Jack seized her by the shoulder's and looked her right in the eye.

"Go on. I'll get the next one." Jack told her, sincerely.

"No. Not without you." She cried desperately. The sound of her voice reminded me dorely of my own voice when I was upset.

"I'll be alright. Listen, I'll be fine. I'm a survivor, all right? Don't worry about me." he told her, guiding her shoulders in the right direction. "Now, go on. Get on."

"I have an arrangement with an officer on the other side of the ship." Cal said to Rose. "Jack and I can get off safely. Both of us."

"See? I got my own boat to catch. Go." Jack said. With one great motion an officer lifted her into the boat, Jack guiding her too. I knew he was lying, Rose would survive, jack would not. And I would be right back where I started, except no hope of a father. I wanted to cry out to Rose, to tell her to get out and be with Jack. But I didn't want them to know i was still here. They'd had enough heartache without knowing that a child they'd both grown attached to was doomed as well.

As the boat went down, Rose gazed up at Jack, so intently it was as if she took her eyes off him he would disappear.

"You're a good liar." Cal finally said as they watched Rose being lowered into the ocean.

"Almost as good as you." Jack said. "There's no...there's no arrangement, is there?" Jack asked, all optimism draining from his voice.

"No, there is." Cal said, bitter sweetness in his deep vocals. "Not that you'll benefit much from it." he looked at Jack with serious eyes. "I always win, Jack. One way or another." I wanted to scream out in anger and sadness. I wanted to kill Cal and hug Jack at the same time. I had never heard such cruel words in my life, not even from the matron. But the look on Jack's face stopped me, as he looked back down at Rose. He had accepted it, he was not going to survive, but that did not mean he couldn't instill that hope in the one he loved most.

Rose, though, seemed to realize what she was doing. She was leaving her one true love, possibly forever. She was leaving everything she had gained on this voyage of a lifetime. I knew Rose had made her decision not to leave Jack, as there were shouts and cries from below and Cal cried out for the officers to pull her back in. Jack dashed from the ship's edge, back through the doors to the ship's interior. Cal followed him and I followed Cal, taking Oliver's hand and pulling him along with me.

We raced into the Grand Staircase one last time and looked over its gilded railings and saw Jack and Rose, hugging and kissing furiously, in the middle of the chaos, Cal looking down at them in denial, wearing a dazed smile across his wickedly handsome face.

His valet, Lovejoy came and pulled him away from the rails, trying to spare him. They walked right past us, and I couldn't help myself.

"I guess you don't always win, do you Cal." I sneered as they walked past. Lovejoy looked at me and cocked his mouth snidely, trying to keep moving but his master had stopped and looked at me too, his face growing blank, but his eyes teeming with extreme animosity. He moved so swiftly, his valet couldn't stop him from pulling the silver pistol from inside his servant's jacket. He took it in his hands, turning and running a ways as if to pursue Jack and Rose. I dashed after him, I wasn't going to let him be the end of Jack and Rose.

But just as he reached the stairs, he turned, and gazed at me.

"Stupid child." He muttered, before pointing the pistol and firing it right at my head.


	12. Chapter 12

Chapter 12

At the Hour of Death

I screamed and tried to dodge the incoming bullet, swinging myself around, but before I could retract my arm the silver bullet sliced through the tendons in forearm, hitting the painting on the opposite wall. For a second I was stunned at how quickly it had happened, until the pain hit me. White hot flames shot up the length of my arm, it was pain like I'd never felt before. I collapsed against the banister squeezing my injured arm to stop the blood and to stop myself from crying out in agony. I looked up at Cal. He was still standing there with his pistol drawn at my head. I tried to see some remorse in his eyes, but they were stone cold. I was virtually immobile, he could have killed me right then and he almost did. If only Oliver hadn't knocked me out of the way

The gunshot meant for my neck, hit Oliver squarely in the chest, he buckled in the sheer force of the bullet piercing his ribs before losing his footing and toppling over the railing.

From that point on everything seemed to go in slow motion, it felt as if the world had ended, everything had disappeared. I opened my mouth to scream but no words came out.

Jack and Rose looked up at the sound of the gunshot and the falling body. Jack made a movement to go and aid the person who had just plunged over the side but then he spotted Cal coming down the stairs at them, with the pistol in his hand.

They dashed down the steps B deck, then C deck, Cal following them, firing bullets whenever he could manage to aim. Suddenly, reality hit me.

"NO!" I cried, rushing down the stairs, still cradling my bloody arm. I fell over Oliver's body sobbing uncontrollably. "Oliver! Oliver! Please, be okay! Please, open your eyes!" I wailed, my hands pressed against his sodden shirt, trying to shake him awake. His eyes flickered open for a moment, they were almost empty.

"I'm sorry, Jo." He coughed. "I did really love you." And then he closed his eyes, and Oliver MacAvery moved no more.

I let out a scream of anguish so loud and mournful that I couldn't believe it was coming from me. I few people came to my side, prying me off Oliver's body, one of the men tried to lift me off my feet as to carry me.

"Come now, sweetheart," He said consolingly. "There's nothing more you can do for him. Let's get you to a lifeboat so we can get that arm sorted out. Alright, love?" I did not acknowledge his words, instead I let my face contort with rage and I exploded.

"CALEDON HOCKLEY, I'M GONNA KILL YOU!" I pulled away from the man's arms, he tried to snatch me back but I was much too quick, running down the grand staircase at lightning speed. I was going to catch him, I told myself, and he would pay.

I heard the sound of splashing water and gunshots as I approached the dining saloon. Jack and Rose's cries were the most prominent noise to be heard. It assured me they were both alive for now.

Then I saw him at the edge of the stairs, leading down into the dining area which was flooded almost completely. He submerged himself waist deep in icy cold water, firing aimlessly at the two of them who had already made it through the deep water, and through the doors of the dining area.

He pointed the gun once more at the sight of the couple dashing up the floor but when he tried to fire nothing came out. He'd run out of bullets.

"Agh!" He screamed in frustration, but then stops as he notices the water boiling up around him, the woodwork of the staircase groaning in protest. He staggered back up the stairs, retreating from the swelling water.

"I hope you enjoy your time together!" Suddenly, overwhelmed with his epiphany, he moaned then started to chuckle to himself.

"What could possibly be funny?" Said Lovejoy, coming down the stairs towards Cal.

"I put the diamond in the coat..." His voice turned dark. "And I put the coat on her!" I came down the stairs hard so they could hear me; they both looked up and gazed at me as if I were the apparition of some long dead little girl. I probably looked it too, with my bloody, soaked sleeve, my ghostly pale face and my sodden scarlet hair. I looked at them menacingly.

"I'm sorry about your friend." Said Cal finally. "I didn't mean to hit him, you know."

"I know." I said. The ship moaned and the sound of clanking dinnerware filled the staircase. "But you should know, Mr. Hockley, I don't regret anything. Not saying what I said or doing the things that I did. I don't even regret being put on this God forsaking ship! Even if I die tonight, I always have these memories, that's one thing you can't take from me." I was surprised at how smoothly it came out.

"I must commend you Josephine," Said Cal walking past me backing up the steps. "You are by far the bravest child I have ever met. I wish you luck...you're going to need it." And he walked up the stairs, along with Lovejoy, spiraling out of sight.

I had a choice now. I could hurry up to the boat deck and try to save myself, or I could follow Jack and Rose and be with my parents in my lasts moments. It didn't make sense to me how I could exist if both of them perished in this disaster, which we were all bound to do at this point. Perhaps I had caused something to change that shouldn't have been. Maybe I had caused my own demise even before I was born. That was a troubling thought. But I decided I was there friend and they were the only ones I had left.

I ran up the dining saloon floor, screaming their names over and over again. But there was no answer. There was a small stairwell to the corner of the saloon and I took it.

I looked around in every direction; finally I spotted them halfway down the corridor, shouting at someone I couldn't see. But that was the last thing I heard of them, as just then water burst from the doors at the end of the hall way and I was knocked off my feet, swept away by the powerful current. It slammed me against the wall, crushing my lungs, knocking the wind out of me. It swelled up to my throat and I craned my neck over the rising water to see if Jack and Rose were still there, but they were gone.

The churning water rose above my head, filling my mouth with icy sea salt. As the water pounded me, my legs struggled to find the floor again.

I grabbed the golden rails that lined the corridor and yanked myself up above the freezing water with great pain and effort. I wasn't going to give in to Titanic, not just yet. I launched myself back into the strong current, trying to mimic the strokes I had seen in the first class swimming pool, which proved almost impossible due to my mangled arm. Honestly, I really didn't know how to swim, no one ever bothered to teach me. Yet somehow I managed to find the stairs again and latched into it with all the strength I had left.

I clambered back up the submerged stairwell, my shoes barely grazing the steps in the raging water. I was running back down the dinning saloon, back up the Grand Staircase. Water had started to creep up the remainder of the staircase, pushing people back to the top. Oliver's body was gone, carried from or swept away by the water. I had half the mind to go and search for his body, but I knew it would be lost all the same.

I took a short cut through the first class smoking room, a room I was never allowed in during the voyage, but now I guess nobody cared now. I wouldn't be there long. Mr. Andrews was standing alone at the mantle, deep in thought; he looked over at me watching him from across the room.

"I thought I told Rose to get you to a boat, Miss Cunningham." he said solemnly.

"They did, but I didn't get on it." I said, smiling at him. "I was too afraid for my friends who were still on board. I had to stay."

"You didn't have to do anything, Winnie!" He scolded. "You're just a little girl, barely ten years old! You should get a chance to live!"

"Yeah, just like those kids down in steerage got a chance." I snapped. "Some of them will never even get to see their first birthday and your crying over some spoiled, stubborn ten year old." I said rashly. Mr. Andrews didn't say anything.

"I'm not afraid to die, Mr. Andrews." I said bluntly. The ship moaned ominously and I felt the floor shift even steeper.

"Good." he said urgently. "Now go, before all hope is lost." he lowered his head, refusing to meet my eyes.

"All hope _is_ lost." I said, before turning and walking out the doors.

Out on deck once more, the atmosphere had completely changed. What was once a controlled panic was now complete chaos. The hysteria and the emotion of the hundreds of people were overwhelming. There was crying and screaming in fear and anguish as water came in from every direction, lifting the stern up in the air. The ocean had completely consumed the bow of the Titanic, and was advancing upward still, sucking under anything in its path.

The first class orchestra played still; there music became a mournful hymn amongst the terror of the thousands of remaining passengers. _Nearer My God to Thee_, I recalled, remembering the song from Sunday prayers in my former life. And for once, I wished I was there instead.

As far as I could tell people just ran around aimlessly, what they were looking for I could not say. The only life boat I could see was capsized, as men struggled to cut the ropes that held it to Titanic. Others latched onto it in hope of finding a place on it once it was set free. One man stood on top of it with an oar, beating off people who tried to climb on with him, shouting _"No you'll swamp us!"_ Over and over again. That man was Caledon Hockley.

As for me, I made no effort to go up to an officer and beg him to put me on a boat. Seeing all these people, men, women and children, who would never be saved, made me feel worthless for trying to put my life above theirs. So, not knowing where to go or who to turn to, I sat down on a dry bench and I waited. Waited for what, I couldn't tell you. I closed my eyes and let the sound of raging water and the dying wash over me. I knew that eventually the ocean would creep up to where I sat and drown me, or worse the Titanic would rise to such a steep angle, I'd fall to my death. I kept imagining Oliver, suddenly alive, running up the deck and hugging me tight. I imagined Rose and Jack sweeping me away to someplace warm and dry. It made me choke in despair. That was impossible. They were dead.

This is how I wanted it to end in the first place, I was alone yet surrounded by people and as soon as the frigid North Atlantic washed over me my life would be over in minutes, maybe even seconds, and it might even be painless. I had always hoped to die just like this, just not so young and not so very much alone.

The ship, like a dying animal started to groan resonating from deep inside its bowels and resounding through the air. The people responded with a scream of terror. I gripped the arm rests of my bench as my behind slid to its edge, almost falling off. I took a deep breath, bracing myself for a long fall. But then I heard someone screaming my name.

"JO!" The sound of my name cut through the cries of the crowd. I looked around and saw people jumping off sides and clamoring up the deck, but no one I knew. Then I saw the young woman with fiery hair pointing me out to a tall boy wearing no lifebelt. I saw his face drop in sorrow. Neither of them knew I had stayed behind. Rose ran to my side bending down to my level, panic stricken.

"Josephine, why are you still here? I thought you got on the boat with mother." She cried taking my cold, soaked hand in hers. "What happened to you arm?" She reached out to examine it but I pulled away, wincing.

"First of all, she ain't my mother. And second of all, I didn't get on the b-boat cause I h-had t-to find Oli-ver." I whimpered, shivering. Jack gripped my wounded arm and pried at it.

"Oh, God, Jo. Were you shot?" He implored urgently. I nodded.

"I tried to s-stop Cal f-from ch-chasing after you. He shot me, he k-killed Oliver." I dissolved into tears." After the shooting I-I went to confront him, b-but I got caught up in-in the water, that's why I'm all wet. I tried to get out, I really did, b-but there were n-no more boats." I couldn't control myself any longer. I couldn't be brave. I was overcome with the grief and fear of hopelessness.

"Cal shot you?" Rose said, unable to fathom her former fiancé could be so cruel. The water below swelled up faster, as more and more passengers descended into the watery depths. The ship let out another moan of discontent.

"Come on. You're coming with us." He said, trying to scoop me up into his arms but I tried with all my might to push him away.

"No! Just let me be! Please, just leave me alone!" I didn't want to watch them drown no more then I wanted to do it myself."I don't want to fight anymore!"

"We can't leave her here, Jack." Rose told Jack as if he would ever do that.

"I'm sorry, but I'm not leaving you. I'm responsible for you now." Jack said to me. "Me, you and Rose, we're survivors! Now, Come on!" He lifted me up so my head rested against his shoulder. He stood up with such ease it startled him. "Jeez, don't they feed girls in first class." He said, before taking Rose's hand and heading up the deck towards the stern.

As we reached the railing that separated the second class promenade from the stern, Jack passed me off to a woman standing by, so he and Rose could climb over on to the deck safely. Even so, Rose fell flat on her face as she jumped decks, and let out a gasp of pain and for some strange reason I gasped in pain too as if I had just rammed into something solid. _But that isn't possible, _I told myself, for I was steady in the arms of a foreign woman. _How could I have felt the same pain?_

The woman passed me back over the rails and into Jack's arms again, like someone would pass a ragdoll back to a child, carelessly, so carelessly I slipped right through his fingers. Suddenly, there were a series of sharp snapping sounds that split through the icy air, like breaking chords. I watched in horror as the enormous red funnel that once stood so regally atop the magnificent Titanic, toppled into the ocean, crushing swimmers as it plundered with an ear splitting roar.

"Oh my God! Oh my God!" I sobbed, Jack picking me up off the deck and then I could no longer see the funnel bobbing on the surface, for we we're moving swiftly towards the back of the ship. Seeing it like this, crowded with a mob of hysterical passengers made my emotions well up even more. Hadn't it been only three days ago that I had met Jack at this very place that afternoon. It was where I found Oliver, his words still echoed in my ears. _"Couldn't resist it, could you, Jo_."

The stern was rising more rapidly now, I could feel Jack's feet slipping on the floorboards as he climbed. The lights flickered some and there was another horrible moan coming from what seemed like under water, as if a monster was waiting for us there.

We pushed passed dozens more, and I watched from over Jack's shoulder as more and more people made the deadly plunge into the water far below.

A priest stood at the very center of the stern, surrounded by a cluster of desperate people as he prayed for them in the hour of their death. "Holy_ Mary, mother of God. Pray for us sinners now and at the hour of our death. Amen." _

"Amen." I whispered. Hoping somewhere, maybe God could hear my prayer. Jack must have heard me, because he held onto me even tighter.

Jack finally set me down as the floor became too steep for him to support my weight. He held both me and Rose's hands as we reached the very back rail of the stern, which separated solid matter from starry sky and black ocean. I had thought this before, I remembered.

"Alright, now Josephine. Don't let go of my hand." Jack warned as the three of us gripped each other and the back railings in a death grip, as the floor slid from beneath us.

"I promise." I said. "But you must promise me something too. Both of you." I looked at them with grieving eyes. This may well be the very last time I saw them and I wanted to make it count. "You must promise me that if one of you survives you'll go on without the other." I aimed this at Rose. "That you won't give up just because the other isn't there and you won't give up on things because they seem too difficult."

"What are you saying, Josephine?" Said Rose stroking my face. "E-everything's going to be fine." She was trying to console me, to ease my fear, but it wasn't working.

"No, everything won't be fine!" I cried. "Because if you two don't survive, than I don't exist!" They looked at each other in shock.

"You're not making any sense, Josephine." Rose said pulling me close, though it was clear to me that she had just realize something. "Just calm down." I could feel her heart racing. I looked around as people who were once hanging on to for dear life, suddenly let go and slid down the deck crashing into anything in their way.

"Hang on real tight!" Jack ordered, and Rose and I obeyed, gripping the rail more furiously with our trembling hands. Then the lights flickered and died out, and I could barely see anymore. There were huge groans and cracks like tearing metal resounding from the hull and suddenly the gigantic ship broke cleanly in two, sending the stern plunging back onto the water with an enormous splash. The two remaining funnels toppling and rolling off the edge.

The stern started to rise again, quicker this time. Hundreds of unprepared victims tumbling down the deck. I felt my wounded arm pulsing from blood loss and overuse, as a reminder of what had happened just hours previously, when Titanic was still alive.

"We have to move!" Jack shouted, climbing over the back rail and holding out his hand to Rose, who struggled to pull herself over. Next, he held his hand out to me. His face was darkened by the shadows of the night, and I could only make out his glinting green eyes.

Then I realized, this was my dream. I had been here! Reliving the night my parents lived. Showing me who they were and what had happened, I just didn't know it. He held out his hand even more insistently.

"Come on, Josephine, Please!" The ship was straight up in the air now, looming over the ocean, my boots banged against the floor, my weak arm shivering, struggling not to give out under pressure. In my dream I had chose not to take the hand, and I had plunged to my death. But now I knew who the boy was. He was my father, and I trusted him. So I did take the hand and let it pull me up to temporary safety.

"What's happening, Jack?" Rose screamed.

"I don't know! I don't know!" his voice was like a siren against the wails of people down below.

The stern seemed to hover above impending death for what seemed like ages. I gripped the hands of both my parents, wondering whether the great ship would tip over in its weight, crushing us or perhaps it would stay frozen here forever.

Then with a great jolt, the stern began to slip steadily beneath the ocean, the water churning below as if boiling it as it sank. The dark water drew nearer.

"Oh God! Oh God!" Rose panicked.

"The ship is gonna suck us down." Jack said to us as the water approached. "Take a deep breath when I say." There were great blasts of water as the ship went down and the people below us disappeared, one by one. "Kick for the surface and keep kicking! Do not let go of my hand." The water was right there now.

"We're going to make it, Rose. Trust me.

"I trust you." Rose shouted over the roar of the sucking waves."

"Ready? Now!" Jack bellowed. And then all there was water.


	13. Chapter 13

Chapter 13

_Letting Go_

_Jack was right, as soon as I hit the water it felt like daggers shooting into my body, but especially my lungs. I couldn't breathe, I couldn't think, at least not anything but the pain. An invisible force tore my body in every direction, but mostly downward, away from the surface and towards the hopelessly dark depths. Bodies were everywhere, some desperately kicking towards the surface, and some just floating, suspended in time._

_The force of the dying Titanic was all too powerful, and somehow, my hands detached themselves from Jack and Rose's, I don't remember letting go. All I knew was I was alone in the dark water, nobody there to help me to open air._

_The ship sucked me down, farther and farther away from the churning surface. I kicked and flailed my arms in futile attempts to break free but even if I could swim, it was hopeless, I was too small. I could feel the muscles in my arms and legs weakening and then my head started to feel like a huge weight on my shoulders, my eyes began to close. I was losing consciousness._

_No! I commanded myself. I would see their faces again. I would make it to the surface one last time. And then one kind gentleman answered my prayer. _

_For a moment I thought it was Jack who had wrapped his arms securely around my waist, but then I turned around and saw the face of a much older man, in a white uniform. The last thing I saw of Titanic was the words Titanic Liverpool vanishing into the black fog before I hit the surface._

_The moment my head rose above the surface, horrible desperate screams lacerated my ears. It was the worst sound I'd ever heard, worse than the gunshot, worse than the sounds of a violently sinking ship. It was the sound of death._

_I took deep gulps of cold air, as deep as my frozen chest would allow. The man held me above the water so only my limp arms and legs dangled in the water._

_"Don't you worry, miss." He stammered, lips quivering under his mustache, " We'll find your mummy and daddy soon." I sincerely hoped so. _

_"Ah, there they are." He started to tread feebly towards a man and a woman holding hands in the fearsomely cold water._

_"Jack!" My voice came out a hoarse, strained scream, so unlike my real voice I clutched my throat in surprise. He turned around looking relieved. _

_"Here you are sir, here's your little girl." His breath smelled of hard liquor, he was clearly drunk, and I was glad for it. If his mind hadn't been clouded by alcohol he probably would have had the sense not to stop and save some poor little girl._

_Jack took me back in his arms, which were rock solid and decrepit at the same time. Rose swam up and pressed her purple, swollen lips to my forehead._

_"I-I thought you'd-d drown-ed, I-I thought I l-let you drown." Rose sobbed, taking my head in her arms and putting it to her chest, she was so cold. Poor Rose had thought by letting go of my hand she'd doomed me, but she was right to let go, she had to survive. If only she could understand that._

_"Come on, Rose! I need you to swim!" Jack shouted, taking Rose's lifebelt in his hand and still gripping my waist with the other one. There were hundreds of people in the water still, thrashing like fish on dry land. Some of them just kicked and wailed, others fought each other over deck chairs and other debris, and some even jumped on top of others, just to stay alive while they drowned beneath them._

_He spotted a piece of paneling, no doubt ripped from the walls of the Grand Staircase by the sheer force of the water._

_"Come on, get on it Rose." He said to her, helping her on to the wooden platform, with great effort. It was a miracle nobody else spotted it and pushed her off. He lifted me out of the water and handed me up to her, who in turn laid me flat out on my stomach next to her. _

_Jack looked and looked, but seeing as the plank was so small there was no way he could fit on it too. I saw the look on his face when he realized this, like he had accepted death. I couldn't have that._

_"I-I w-want t' get off." I stuttered, trying to roll myself off the plank, but my legs felt like lead, I couldn't even feel below my ankles. Jack saw my torso twist to try and flip myself off, so he put a hand on my back to keep me in place._

_"N-no, no, Josephine. You stay here with Rose." He said, trying to stretch his mouth into a reassuring smile._

_"B-but you?" I said, trying to force myself over again, useless._

_"I'll be fine. I'm a survivor, right?" I nodded, I hoped it to be true, not just for his sake, but for mine. He out a long drawn out sigh. "It'll be alright now. It'll be alright."_

_From far off in the distance a left over officer blew his whistle, and yelled with as much vigor as he had left._

_"Return the boats!" He blew his whistle more furiously. "Return the boats!" I looked out into the open ocean; it felt strange to see the gap where Titanic had once floated so majestically over the glassy ocean. Somewhere out there, people, Rose's and my mother included, were out there safe in a lifeboat. Did they not hear our screams? _

_"See?" Said Jack optimistically. "T-the boats are coming back for us, Rose. T-They h-had to row away for the suction, but they'll be coming back." he grinned, taking Rose's hands in his. Shackles still adorned Jack's wrists, I wondered why?_

_"Come now, Josephine." Rose said, trying to distract me from the cold that ate at my every limb. "Look at the stars, aren't they lovely." I gazed upward at the heavens. Never had I seen a more beautiful sky, stars brilliantly shinning against its velvety blackness._

_After awhile, the screams started to die down, and the violent thrashing became feebler. I looked around, craning my neck to find the man with the whistle, which blew so feverently in the beginning. He was slumped against a deck chair now, whistle hanging out his stiff lips. All around me, more and more people were becoming limp and immobile. How long did it take to prepare a lifeboat?_

_"It's getting quiet." Rose said dreamily. It was the first words she had spoken in awhile. Her head rested on Jack's stark white forearm, ice crystals were forming on her hair._

_"It's just gonna t-take awhile t' get the...boats organized." Jack answered. His voice was becoming more afflicted by the cold, as well. I could hear him breathing short shallow breaths as he clutched to the side of the paneling. "I-I don't know 'bout you, but...but I intend to right a strongly worded letter to the white star line about all this." He said, quivering. I tried to smile and laugh but my mouth wouldn't move and my throat didn't seem to work anymore._

_"I love you, Jack." Rose sniffled, breathing so quickly she barely managed to get the words out. Those words gave me a sudden jolt of warmth inside, starting in my heart and radiating throughout my body, it lasted long enough that I managed to inch myself a little bit closer to the edge until my body turned to stone again._

_"Don't you do that." Said Jack. " Don't you say you're goodbye's. Not yet, do you understand me?" His voice was fierce._

_"I'm so cold." Rose whined, stuttering. _

_"Listen, Rose. You're gonna get outta here." Said Jack firmly. "You're gonna go on. You're gonna make lot of babies and you're gonna watch 'em grow. You're gonna die an old, old lady warm in her bed." Said Jack with a hint of laughter. "Not here. Not this night. Not like this, do you understand me?"_

_"I can't feel my body." Rose whimpered, softer still._

_"Winning that ticket, Rose... was the best thing that ever happened to me." He declared in his low, still optimistic whisper. "It brought me to you. And I'm thankful for that, Rose. I'm thankful." Rose sobbed a little harder._

_"You must do me this honor." He said, perking up a bit. Taking my hand in his forcing my eyes to his, just to make sure I was alive. "Both of you."_

_"You must promise me...that you'll survive. That you won't give up. No matter what happens. No matter hopeless." Jack choked over his words. He was struggling to breathe. This couldn't be happening. "Promise me now, Rose. And never let go of that promise."_

_"I promise." Rose said, gazing at Jack, weakly._

_"Never let go." Jack whispered._

_"I'll never let go, Jack." She cried. "I'll never let go." He kissed her trembling hand, and flashed her that famous grin, a grin I knew I would never see again._

_"Will you promise too, Jo." He stammered, looking at me with those sad green eyes, my own eyes. And he'd never even realize it._

_I opened my mouth to answer when suddenly my whole body fell stiff with a sudden stab of icy cold pain. My head began to feel light, Jack's face became hazy. My brain begged me to close my eyes. I tried to spit out the words I promise, but my mouth wouldn't allow it. The barrier that retrained my lungs from taking full breaths gave in for a moment and I took one last inhale of sweet, frozen sea air._

_"Josephine! Please, don't close your eyes!" Jack pleaded, shaking my white frozen hands to get me to stay alert. Rose became alarmed; she tried to get me to meet her eyes too. "Stay awake, for me."_

_"Josephine! Josephine! Don't leave me, please!" She sobbed, rubbing the small of my back with her marble hands. But their efforts were to no avail. I had always been a sickly child. Now I had to pay the price. My thoughts went to Oliver. If only I had listened to him in the first place, then this would never have happened to either of us._

_But then a new thought blossomed in my fading consciousness, my last thought. Jack's words resounding through my mind. __Winning that ticket was the best thing that ever happened to me. It brought me to you._

_Then I decided that hitting my head on that lamp post was the best thing that had ever happened to me. It brought me to them, and I was grateful for that. And with that deep, sweet gush of air, I spoke my last words to them._

_"I'll never leave you. I love you." I said tenderly, squeezing their hands one last time before my shallow breathing stopped and I fell asleep under the stars. Silence._


	14. Chapter 14

Chapter 14

Changed

It was blissful. Once I had closed my eyes everything, the pain, the biting cold was gone. In its place was a warm, bright light. The ocean had disappeared, the frozen people. Jack and Rose had faded away, their voices still echoed in my head _"don't leave me". _Had they left each other yet?

But the warmth only lasted a few moments, then the icy chill hit me again, only this time it was far weaker than the intensity of the North Atlantic and finally, some great force that had been set upon my eyes lifted, and I was allowed to open them again.

I had expected to see heaven. To see a beautiful pasture or whatever heaven was supposed to look like. Perhaps the golden gates with St. Peter waiting at them. God, church had certainly had an effect on my mind, even in death. Maybe there would be people waiting for me there, Oliver, , maybe even Jack and Rose had fallen victim to the icy water and would be waiting for me too.

But I did not see heaven. I opened my eyes to a blanket of smoky grey sky. Was heaven this dismal? Then I heard something, not voices, taxi cab horns. I was back.

I sat up straight and surveyed my surroundings. Snow was falling, heavy, blanketing the sidewalks and making the narrow streets slick and icy black. Cars sped by, emitting the familiar scent of exhaust as they went.

I examined myself. My sodden white dress and gold clasped leather shoes were gone, as was my lifebelt. In its place was my usual navy cotton dress and frayed, peeling boots. My hair was in tangles, little snowflakes clang to it like the ice crystals on Rose's wet hair. My arm still stung. I rolled up my sleeve and examined my forearm. Right where Cal's bullet had pierced my skin there was a small hole where it would have entered. If it was just a dream, why would the bullet hole be there?

The small mass of rags beside me in the alley stirred and a mass of messy mouse brown hair lifted its head up, rubbing its eyes, groggily.

"Oliver!" I cried hugging him around the shoulders, he gasped out in surprised and giggled. The real Oliver was back.

"Jeez Jo, what was that for?" He said laughing. He clutched himself over the heart as if it pained him. I reached over and pulled down the collar of his dirty white shirt, and there it was, plain as he was. A bullet hole, the size of a dime, imprinted over his heart.

"Lord how did that get there! I thought it was just a dream!" He cried, prodding his wound.

"You mean you remember it too! You remember the ship and the sinking and my parents!" I said a little too much excitement in my eyes for he inched away, startled.

"Well, yeah. I mean, you were there and all." he said scratching his head. "It was a bloody long dream too. We was havin the best time, running around and what not, trying to get Jack and Rose together." He chuckled to himself. "Until the ship started to sink. Damn that was cold water."

"You have no idea." I interjected quietly.

"Anyway, last thing I can remember was being shot by that first class bloke. Then everything went black." My heart sank.

"You mean...you mean it wasn't real." I said, the hope draining from my voice. But it had to be real. It was all so vivid. The great, ship, the people, the water, the noises. I shuddered.

"Course it wasn't real, Jo! How could a ship like that sink?" He guffawed, tossing a bit of snow at me.

"But it had to be real. You mean it was all inside my head, everything?" My voice cracked. I had so wanted it to be real, even if I had died.

"I guess so." Said Oliver. " But it's weird though, your mother was there, only she was much younger, much prettier too."

"What do you mean my mother was there, I don't have a mother." I sighed. "I mean, I thought Rose Dewitt Bukater was my mother but I guess she can't be. I'm still here aren't I?"

"Yeah right, Josephine. You do _to_ have a mother. She was yelling at you not an hour ago for trying to slip out of the house without a coat." He said. "I watched all happen."

"I do not have a mother and neither do you, remember. We're orphans." I snapped.

"Well I sure am, but you're not." He said flatly. "Are you feeling okay, Josephine? Maybe that smack on the head did mess with your brains."

"No, It didn't mess with my brains, it sent me back in time! And I assure you, Oliver, I have never had a mother or a parent of any kind." I said indignantly. Oliver was beginning to become upset too.

"Yes you do! Her name is Rose Dawson, and she performs on Broadway as an actress! Look for yourself." He pointed through the curtain of falling snow at a woman walking down the street, as if searching for something. Her brilliantly scarlet hair vivid against the grey daylight.

"Impossible." I breathed. I got to my feet and ran up to the woman and threw my arms around her waist before she had the chance to say anything.

"Rose! Rose! You're alive! You survived, just like Jack said you would!" I held her tighter; she still smelled the same, like expensive perfume.

"My goodness, what's gotten in to you." Said that familiar melodic voice I adored, hugging me back with just as much surprise and affection as I had given her. "Where have you been, I've been looking all over for you!"

"You have?" I gushed.

"Of course, it's almost time for lunch and I have to be at work in less than an hour. Now come on." She said, taking my hand and leading me down the street.

"But Rose, where's Jack?" I asked stopping. Her face froze. My heart filled with dread. "He did survive, didn't he?" A lump gathered in my throat, my voice suddenly becoming high. Jack can't be dead.

"It's mother to you, Josephine Margaret Dawson. And we don't know a Jack." She said stiffly, snatching my hand back.

"Yes you do! You loved him, and he loved you!" I sobbed. "Please tell me. Tell me Jack Dawson survived, please!" Her face was as white as the falling snow.

"How...how do you know about Jack, I-I never told you about your father." She stammered, looking at me in disbelief.

"You're kidding, right?" I copied her expression. "I was there, I was on the Titanic when it sank, I held your hand when it went down, I was with you and Jack in that water when I... died.

"Josephine Stop! Please, you're scaring me!"Rose said in alarm.

"So he didn't survive." I said blankly. I wondered how many other people didn't survive either. "So you just left him!" I screamed.

"I-I had to, I promised." She said, quietly. "Besides, if I had stayed in the water with Jack, I wouldn't have had you." She beamed, squeezing my hand. "You're the only thing I have of him. Every time I look into those eyes I see Jack." I met her eyes and her pale face flushed with color.

"How did you get out of the water?" I asked.

"One of the boats came back." Rose said solemnly. "I almost let it row away, but then I remembered the promise. So I rolled off the plank and took the whistle from the officer's mouth and started to blow it. And they came back." I nodded in comprehension. She needn't explain anything else. I knew.

"When you found out about me, did you want to give me away?" I asked, challenging her.

"Well, that certainly crossed my mind." She stuttered with great difficulty. "But I had promised Jack and my friend Josephine I wouldn't give up. And I suppose that meant not giving up on you, either." I smiled at her.

"Thank you, Mama."

"Don't thank me, thank Jack. For giving you to me." She said, as we walked along the sidewalk. "Tell me, how did you know all that, about Jack and the Titanic. I never told anyone."

"It's a long story." I smiled and I started to run down the street, Rose following in my wake.

A/N: That's the end! Thanks so much for reading!-Emerson


	15. Epilogue

Epilogue

5 years later...

New York harbor was bustling as always, large men carried freight from loading dock to ship and back again, sweat glistening on their greasy foreheads. People milled about seeming aimless in their patterns in circling the lot waiting for their boat to arrive. The air smelled of fishy, with salt and smoky factory admissions as well. I had grown to love that smell.

I sat down in my usual place beside the dock, on a rusty old bench, tin cup at my feet and sketch pad in hand hoping someone would come by and want their face sketched...for ten cents of course. And someone did.

His light brown hair was matted down around his face, thick with sweat. It almost covered his wide, coffee colored eyes which were smiling along with his famous mischievous grin. Oliver had grown tall over the last two years or so, now he was just about taller than me at 5 feet 11 inches, but only just. His freckles had disappeared, which disappointed me. I had so wanted to draw him with a speckled nose, but it wasn't till recently that he'd let me sketch his portrait.

"10 cents, right?" He asked in his unusually deep, but still boyish voice. I nodded and he took the seat beside me on the bench. I adjusted the sketch pad on my leg, gripping my charcoal pencil hard before looking at him intensely as to note all the changes in his face from when I last saw him, they were always so subtle yet so unmistakable to an artist's eyes.

I adjusted his bangs, sweeping them aside so I could see his eyes more clearly, they were already staring me down to the extent where I had to force myself not to blush. I put my palms at either side of his head to tilt it just so and brought his chin out more. Now it looked like he was staring out into the ocean, longingly, just how I wanted.

"Okay, now head up, eyes to the ocean and...And try to stay still." I said. To my surprise, Oliver obeyed looking out at the misty harbor, the little sunlight carved his face just the way I wanted it to, making deep shadows on his brow and under his cheekbones. I loosened my grip on the pencil, and started to carve out Oliver's face on paper.

"How's your mom?" He asked, keeping his focus on a point far out to sea. He had been released from the orphanage not two years ago. He worked for a freighting company, in exchange for meals and board. I hardly got to see him; my mother probably hadn't visited him properly since he left St. Catherine's.

" Fine." I replied. Oliver looked at me as if he had been robbed. "Alright she's more than fine, actually. She met this Hollywood agent in Manhattan. He wants her to move out to Los Angeles and be a part of his moving pictures. Now, will you please hold still."

So serious." Oliver said mockingly, adjusting his face back to where I had fixed it, but his facial expression wasn't quite the same. It looked amused.

"Relax your face." I said. "No laughing." He instantly removed his snarky look, and I was able to concentrate on forming his eyes once more.

"Is she gonna go, your mom." His voice held no emotion.

"She's seriously contemplating it, yes." I told him. "She's always wanted to see Santa Monica pier, for some reason. I think it be good for her. New York can get boring after awhile."

"So I guess you'll be moving to California too." No emotion.

" Maybe. Maybe not." I said, coyly.

"What do you mean, maybe not! Of course you'll go!" He said. "You're an artist, Jo. There are so many better opportunities for you there!"

"Possibly," I said, completing his smile. "But I bet there aren't many Oliver MacAvery's in L.A. At least not any I'd want to associate with." My eyes met his. His were shocked.

"But, Josephine, your mother?"

"I'm fifteen years old, almost sixteen! My mother doesn't need me and I can always write to her, tell her how things are. I survived Titanic...well, in a way, but I can most certainly survive New York on my own.

Oliver just stared at me. It had always been a possibility, him and I. But we seemed to always stay best of friends although we clearly loved each other, even my mother had remarked on it at one point. It was there, it always had been, we just always pretended it hadn't. That we hadn't said we loved each other on Titanic that we hadn't kissed in that flooded third class corridor. Oliver had tried to forget the whole thing altogether. But I could not. Maybe it was time I made the first move.

" I can't leave you, Oliver. I couldn't imagine living without you." He still just looked at me. "Here, it's done." I ripped the paper out of the bindings and handed it to him.

I barely had time to react as Oliver leaned and kissed me full on in the mouth. It seemed to last forever, even though it was only for a few seconds. When we finally broke apart, I slumped back against the hand rail, gasping.

"What was that for?" I breathed, my face flushing with happiness.

"That was a thank you." He looked rather pleased with himself. "Oh my god, Jo look!" I turned around and there, standing in the middle of the dock, new valet at his side, was Caledon Hockley. He looked rather content.

"Think he'll remember us?" I asked.

"Only one way to find out." Oliver said, mischief glinting in those gorgeous eyes. I held out my hand to him.

"You jump, I jump, right?" I grinned. Oliver gripped my hand, and we walked off together, down the pier. After all, we did need a plan.


End file.
